


Carnival of Dreams

by DistantSapphireBlue



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Captivity, Circus, Evil Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Violence, Nightmares, Not Canon Compliant, Not RPF, Platonic Relationships, Protectiveness, Punishment, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, freak show au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29433690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantSapphireBlue/pseuds/DistantSapphireBlue
Summary: THIS IS NOT RPF, THIS IS CHARACTERS ONLY. DO NOT SEND THIS WORK TO CCS. I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS INVOLVED.People had lots of names for the travelling act. A circus, most people called it. Others, with less tact, called it a freak show. But beneath all those labels, the show had a true name. The Carnival of Dreams. And it was both of the previous labels and more. People would come from miles around to marvel at the wonders that he had to offer, and the anger of his acts is slowly bubbling up, building and fighting to get to the surface.Tubbo is planning, biding his time; Puffy has been trying to rally the world around her; and Tommy is just trying to survive. Each member of the circus has their own demons, but united under Dream, they're trying to find their feet.*Circus/freakshow au! They're all being held against their will and multiple individuals are plotting an escape. There's a lot of fluff in between all the hurt.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 144





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope fics for the Dream smp are okay. I saw other people writing them so I figure it's all alright if it's about the characters rather than the real people. So I'll just lay down that:  
> 1\. No RPF  
> 2\. No shipping in any of my fics unless they're stated canon  
> 3\. Please don't send this to any CCs  
> 4\. Fair warning they're being held against their will, Dream uses violence against them - electrocution, physical and verbal. Not much is shown but stay safe.
> 
> Hope you enjoy the fic, this isn't canon compliant and this is all fun because Darcy said he wanted to see a circus fic so here you go. Everyone in this au has powers, and they're alluded to through the story but I will list them at the end too! This chapter is an introduction to how things operate.

People had lots of names for the travelling act. A circus, most people called it. Others, with less tact, called it a freak show. But beneath all those labels, the show had a true name. _The Carnival of Dreams_. And it was both of the previous labels and more.

It was _his_ circus, his freakshow, his, his, _his_ , and Dream took great care to keep it that way.

Each of his acts had been specially selected. They were his prized possessions, stolen or kidnapped or bought specifically for purpose. It wasn’t easy to keep them under control, but Dream was well practised. Now they had been well initiated, they rarely ever stepped out of line. They’d get in their trailers at night without complaining, set up when they arrived and performed on cue with very little need for encouragement any more. It had taken him a long time, but he’d managed to get his travelling carnival perfect.

They’d finished setting up the tent just a few hours ago, and now his acts were milling around in their own little social groups, talking about nothing in particular. It was kind of cute, but mostly just boring. And Dream couldn’t stand being bored. It was time for him to do a loop around them. Not to do anything in particular, just to set them on edge. His pacing made them nervous, and they all knew what it meant.

Pushing himself up from his seat at the top of the stands, he made his way down through the aisles towards where Niki, Eret and Fundy sat, deep in conversation.

Niki was the first to notice him. She was quick like that, and incredibly alert. As she caught wind of his approach, she pressed her mouth shut, fast, cutting herself off mid-sentence and turning to watch him with glaring, level eyes instead.

“I see you’re not practising,” Dream commented, voice deliberately cool and uninterested.

Niki’s stance only got more stubborn, “Did we have to be?”

It wasn’t a question, it was a challenge. Dream almost laughed. She always seemed to like pressing his buttons, still defying him at every turn, but he knew her rebellion was wearing thinner and thinner these days. Her first few weeks at the circus had involved a lot of fire resistance potions on his behalf, choking them down so that when she spat fire at him he wasn’t going to singe any more of his outfits. Now she had friends, though. Now she had people to care about, and it put her in a compromised position.

For now, though, Dream decided to let this defiance lay, “No, I don’t suppose you do.”

Still, he flicked his hand with a practised nonchalance as he shrugged, just enough to show off the device he wore strapped around his wrist at all times. Just enough to remind her that it was still there.

Her gaze darted to it, and then she looked away. Good.

“Did you need something?” Eret asked from beside her. His tone was distantly nervous, which meant he’d got the message, too. They were rubbing at their wrist, fingers subconsciously trying to work underneath the metal shock band that sat there.

Dream shook his head, “No, no. I was just checking up on you.”

_And trying to keep you in line_ , Dream thought, and was pleased with the knowledge that it had worked. Dream had worked hard for his circus, hard to keep his prizes all in one place. The shock bands were a part of that. One tap against his own device and he could electrocute whoever he wanted. Two taps and he could punish everyone. It was a system that had served him _very_ well so far.

Just a flash of it was enough to remind most of them who they belonged to these days. Clearly, it had been enough to send Fundy into a panic, because as he turned to walk away, he could hear Eret comforting him, her voice quiet and soft, trying to calm the fox down.

Dream suppressed a laugh.

His next stop was with his favourite little family that he owned. The fact that he’d managed to get all of them, a matching set, still brought him joy. Not that it had been easy, of course, but the capture of one had just led the rest straight into his clutches. It had been a calculated move on his part, and one that had taken weeks of planning.

Technoblade was Dream’s greatest prize. He had been the most difficult of his catches, and the most difficult to keep under control, but Dream was smart. Patient, too. One by one, he’d taken his family from him. He stole his brothers from the back of pubs, market places, the hands of armed men he’d paid to aid him. Then, as his paranoia grew, he’d taken their father, too. Dream had left a bundle of Phil’s feathers, bloody and fresh, on the warrior’s doorstep.

“Come with me if you want him to live,” Dream had told him simply.

Techno had of course responded with threats of violence, but it hadn’t mattered. “I’ll kill you,” he’d told him.

And whilst Dream didn’t doubt he could, he’d just levelled at him with a laugh.

“Then your family will starve to death before you ever find them.”

His threats had worked a charm, and he’d managed to catch a whole family in one neat scoop. Techno’s shock collar sat around his neck, far more dangerous than the ones on the others. Dream had to be careful to keep complete control over him. If he couldn’t control his mind like he might the others, he would control his violence.

It glinted in the light as he approached the group of anomalies, and Dream hummed with contentment as he saw the scars that were stretching up from under it.

Somehow, they hadn’t heard him approaching. Phil was lay on the floor, his wings stretched out around him, glistening with water where he’d clearly just finished washing them. It was a shame to see them clipped, a lot of their grandeur lost, but no worry. Audiences still liked him well enough. Tubbo was sat cross legged beside him, arranging flowers and pushing them gently into his father’s hair.

Beside him was Tommy, half leant on Tubbo but mostly paying attention to Wilbur, who was singing quietly to himself next to Techno.

They definitely didn’t know he was there then, because there’s no way Wilbur would still have been singing if he had any idea that Dream was approaching. Dream tapped his wristwatch quickly, giving Wilbur a warning shock. It was barely anything, the tiniest zap, but enough to make Wilbur yelp and flinch.

Dream was glad his mask was covering how much it made him smirk to watch him panic.

His whole family had snapped to attention as a response, their moment of peace shattered. Phil was sat up immediately. Flowers tumbled from his hair as he moved a wing instinctively to protect his younger two. Techno’s response was calmer, more controlled, but Dream didn’t miss how he straightened out, making himself a bigger target.

“ _Wilbur_ ,” Dream sighed, disappointment thick on his voice, “You know the rules.”

“I think we all know the rules by now,” Phil growled, voice thick with threat. Useless threat, of course, but he didn’t seem capable of abandoning the tone.

“I’d hope so. You know that I don’t like having to use this.”

When Wilbur didn’t respond, his youngest brother spoke up to fill the silence.

“Hey, Dream,” Tommy said. After all this time, he still couldn’t stand the silence, even when his voice shook slightly as he spoke.

“Tommy. It’s nice to get some sun, isn’t it?”

He turned his face towards the sky for a second and nodded, “I like being outside.”

“Good, good. I was hoping you might want to go for a walk with me later.”

The “ _Yeah_ ” that left Tommy’s mouth couldn’t have been any closer to a no. Despite the enthusiasm behind it, he kept his eyes trained on the floor as he spoke, sinking behind what cover his father’s wings could provide.

“That’d be lovely, Tommy. I’ll pick you up later.”

Around him, the others had frozen.

“Thank you.”

Dream hadn’t meant to break the boy quite this badly, but it had worked remarkably well in his favour. They mightn’t show it, but his whole family was terrified of him now. Usually, they fussed over their youngest member, keeping him close at their sides, far away from where Dream could take him away again. But they couldn’t _actually_ stop him. All he had to do was ask Tommy something and he’d come running to his side.

Not that Dream had any plans on taking him away from them again. When he’d done it, it had been because Tommy had spent a whole afternoon defying him, breaking down his patience, trying to escape. Dream had grabbed him by his hair and dragged him towards his storage trailer where he could lock him away, alone in the cold and dark.

The few weeks he’d spent in there with only Dream for company had broken his spirit, and it had done lasting damage on the rest of his family, too. They were far more scared now they’d seen one of their own beaten into submission.

Reaching out, he ruffled Tommy’s hair. For a second, he flinched again, towards Tubbo, and then he forced himself to straighten out again, leaning into the touch.

Dream was satisfied with this area, and so he pushed on.

It seemed as if Karl was human again for the time being, so Dream didn’t think to bother him. He had his legs kicked out over Quackity’s, laughing along with something that he was saying. Dream couldn’t hear what, and he knew if he got closer the laughter would only stop. For a minute, he watched.

“This is your own fault, you know,” A voice said from his side.

Dream was thankful that his mask disguised just how much that had made him jump. Puffy had managed to sneak up on him, and now was standing at his side, defiant and arms folded.

She nodded her head towards the group opposite, “You’re never going to get this. You’re _lonely_.”

The accusation in her voice made his blood boil.

“All you do is perform. You’re just like us, under that stupid mask of yours you’re just another one of the freaks.”

Before Dream could even realise he was doing it, a had hand reached out and was grabbing Puffy by the cheeks, squeezing hard, all nail and malice. He was dragging her in close, snarl on his lips.

“Shut. Up.”

Puffy was on her toes now, struggling to keep herself upright at this angle. But where Dream had been expecting fear, he only saw satisfaction.

“So you do have some sort of feelings in there,” She laughed, voice soft and bitter, “Good to know.”

Abruptly, Dream dropped her. She hit the ground with a satisfying thud, horns smacking dangerously off of the ground. The laughter around them had stopped, replaced with a tense silence.

Dream forced the anger to ebb out of him as he glared at her. He left the threat of kicking her on the table, but restrained himself. She was wrong. In fact, she couldn’t have been further from right. He was renowned and dangerous. Even under all her defiance, all that anger spurred on by Niki, Puffy was scared.

“Go on, hit me,” she hissed.

“I don’t think I will.”

Now her anger suddenly swooped in, dead and cold. Her face dropped. Maybe she could deal with violence, but she couldn’t deal with uncertainty. Dream had forced his voice to a cool, careless level, relaxing his shoulders. He could figure out a punishment for her later, but for now, he’d simply leave her in fear. That suited him just fine. He’d been getting more and more tense recently.

Dream walked away.

*

Sleep rarely came easily to Wilbur, but it always came easier when they were allowed to stay in their trailer rather than their holding cells. He liked to sit on his bed, curtain drawn slightly back, and stare up out at the stars.

Their trailer was cramped and crowded, but it was _theirs_ now. They’d taken what precious little space they had and adapted it. With only three beds between them, it had made sense to push them together to maximise the room. Phil always slept on the outside, closest to the door. It was an old habit from when they had been young and constantly on the road, never sleeping anywhere that was completely safe. He couldn’t protect them now, but it gave them a semblance of familiarity that they desperately needed. When Techno was allowed to stay with them, he would be next to Phil, tucked close up under his wing as if he didn’t need the familiarity in order to sleep. Tubbo and Tommy would be next, followed by Wilbur by the wall and the window.

In the quiet, Wilbur watched the stars.

Beside him, Tommy shifted sharply, muttering something stark and panicked in his sleep. He kept muttering, trembling now, words soft and quick and rapid, littered with _sorry_ and _please_. Once again, Wilbur thanked the fact he was a light sleeper. Tommy’s nightmares seemed to have gotten worse recently, and more often than not he’d wake up sobbing in the night. He couldn’t let him be alone for that.

Gently, he reached out his hand until it was resting carefully on his hair.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, gently combing his fingers through, “You’re safe.”

The touch seemed to calm him slightly, and then he sobbed, shuddering back in on himself. Wilbur kept working with him, hands gentle and calm. Quietly, barely a whisper, Wilbur began to sing. His tune was gentle, made to soothe. Slowly, gently, it brought his brother back round from his nightmare and into normal sleep.

Satisfied that Tommy was safe, Wilbur shifted so he could tuck his blankets gently round him again.

The other side of the bed shifted with the slight ruffle of feathers, and Phil lifted his head slightly.

“Wil?” He whispered, voice hoarse from sleep.

“It’s okay, Tommy just had a nightmare.”

Propping himself up on one arm, Phil shifted to look over at them.

“He’s okay now though?”

Wilbur smiled fondly at Tommy, “Yeah, he’s okay.”

Phil shifted so he could lean over, cupping Wilbur’s cheek with softness, “You’re a good brother, you know that?”

Leaning into the touch, Wilbur sighed, “I’m just trying to keep him safe.”

“You _are_. He looks up to you more than anybody.”

Phil’s thumb worried gently at the thin scar on Wil’s face, stretching out from the corner of his mouth out onto his cheek in a harsh line. He traced it along, frowning. It was a residual mark from some of the more violent times Dream had gagged him to stop him singing, worn open day after day when Wilbur had been having a breakdown.

Back then, he had tried to scream himself hoarse behind the gag. Now he put up far less of a fight about it - except for when Dream had used it on Tommy for as little as _annoying him_. Then he’d made the mistake of trying to hurt Dream. It had cost him a week with it on, but it had been worth it. He’d rather get punished for his actual powers than see Tommy hurt just for daring to still have the energy to speak.

Wil closed his eyes and leant further into Phil’s hand, distracting from the scar, “I didn’t mean to wake you up. You should go back to sleep.”

His father only hummed, “I will get us out of here, I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I do not respond or update quickly, I work night shifts!
> 
> Powers:  
> Phil - Canon (wings, ambiguously an angel or hybrid)  
> Techno - Piglin hybrid, warrior  
> Wilbur - Siren  
> Tommy - Healing powers when listening to music (think Rapunzel)  
> Tubbo - Ability to grow flowers  
> Fundy - Fox hybrid  
> Eret - Canon (ambiguous, glowing eyes)  
> Nihachu - Fire  
> Puffy - Sheep hybrid  
> Quackity - Shapeshifter (mimicry)  
> Karl - Shapeshifter (interdimensional)  
> Sapnap - Blaze/demon hybrid  
> Bad - Canon (demon)  
> Ranboo - Canon (half-enderman)  
> More might be added but if they do it should become obvious!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two updates for today to get the ball rolling. In this one we get to take a look at some of the performances, and see a few more attempts at rebellion. Who's plotting a way out?
> 
> Warning again for mild violence and vague descriptions of people not being super nice. Characters are drugged with potions in this chapter, but it's only vaguely described, only in Tubbo's thoughts being fuzzy etc.

Despite everything, Niki didn’t mind the weekend performances as much as she should have done. On stage, she could use her powers freely. And whilst she’d rather not have been performing by force, at least she could forget where she was for a while. Makeup, stage and lights were all fine. Sometimes Tubbo would sit with her pre-show, braiding his flowers into her hair. In another life, she could have been a dancer.

So no, the weekends weren’t a problem. It was the weeknight freakshow events that bothered her. Those days they had to get into their holding cages and let the creeps and weirdos who were interested in freak shows treat them like the monsters they saw them as.

She had always hated being treated like a monster, but if that’s what they expected, she wouldn’t disappoint.

In a way, she was glad that she was considered too dangerous to be let out of her cell. Sure, people could come and jeer at her, or throw water at her when her fire got too intimidating, but they had to keep their distance. Fundy was out on the floor most nights, under threat of a muzzle if he misbehaved, and she’d seen people pull his tail more than once.

Whenever she saw someone getting harassed nearby, she’d hiss and spit fire until the attention was turned back to her. It didn’t always work, but it made her feel a little better that she could provide some safety, even if it put her in the firing line.

They were getting ready for a weekday performance now, and tension had come in thick with it.

Dream had been restless recently. It was making people nervous.

There was almost something grotesquely ironic about pushing rows of cages out into the backstage of the circus, lining up their own imprisonment. And again, there was something even worse about sitting in makeup beforehand, trying to figure out how to present themselves to an audience that was designed to hate them.

Puffy was perched on the desk opposite her now, leant forward to gently brush blush against Niki’s cheeks. Her face was scrunched up a little in concentration, but she still looked beautiful. She had chipped one of her horns yesterday in her confrontation with Dream, and despite her and Karl’s best efforts to patch it up, the damage was still noticeable. If it was bothering her, she hadn’t said anything yet.

“Are you ready for tonight?” Niki asked, trying to keep the regret out of her voice.

Puffy gave her a look, and Niki sighed, “I know. But we’re getting closer to leaving every day.”

“I’m working on it,” she admitted with a hum, “Yesterday taught me some things, but not enough. Not enough to tell everyone else yet.”

“When can we tell them?”

Tucking her brushes away into her makeup bag, she frowned.

“Soon, but not yet. He’s too good at getting information out of people.”

Niki hummed in agreement, tucking her knees up to her chest.

“ _Still_.”

Bad stuck his head round the corner into the makeup room then. He was already ready, dressed from head to toe in the most demonic looking robes that Dream could find for him. It didn’t do much to make him look scarier, but he hadn’t used any of his powers yet. Not that Niki and Puffy could ever see him as anything scary. He was their _friend_ , and he was standing, wiggling a little bottle in one hand from the door.

“Am I good to come in?” He asked, surprisingly chipper.

“Always!”

He shot them a little grin as he pushed further into the room, waving the bottle in Puffy’s direction, “I got this for you. Dunno if it’ll work on yours, but it’s always been pretty good at keeping my horns in good shape. Do sheep work like demons?”

Puffy took the bottle from him, taking a moment to look at the inscription. It was written in a language she didn’t recognise.

“I have no idea, but there’s only one way to find out,” She smiled at him, “Thank you, though. Are you sure you’re okay with me using it?”

“You’re my friend, Cap. Of course I am.”

*

Phil hated weekday shows. He supposed he wasn’t alone in that, but he hated it so much it made his wings bristle and burn with anger. Stood in his cage, he craned his neck to try and catch a glimpse of his sons around the other edge of the tent, between the crowds of other people.

It was hard to keep an eye on the action when he’d already been drugged. Dream always had a few for before a weekday performance would start, just enough to throw them off their game, enough to make sure they weren’t with it enough to start a fight with anyone or try and escape. Generally, Phil’s immune system was a little too strong for it to have much of an impact, but that didn’t mean anything for the others.

Rolling his shoulders, he tried to push some of the nervous tension out of them.

Guests were starting to arrive.

*

Nights like these passed in a blur for Tubbo. Sit in the middle of the maze of cages as Dream does his tour, then get up and talk to guests. Make yourself entertaining. An entertaining freak. Wander between the cages, ignore your friends who are stood in them whilst you’ve been left out on the floor, try not to react badly when people are rude to you.

Dream let him out unmonitored on the floor because he didn’t think he could be a threat.

Which stung a little. He could be threatening, if he wanted to be. Probably. Even roses had thorns, right? Opening his palms, he let a couple of flowers bloom between his fingers. Their petals sprang to life and pushed out, stems dancing around his wrist as they grew.

Then it was snatched from his hand before it could become anything impressive.

Someone had snatched it as they walked past, a man following Dream around in energetic conversation. Like he hadn’t even seen Tubbo there at all.

“Bastard,” Eret hissed from one of the cages behind him, in a voice only intended for Tubbo.

He laughed, quietly, “They all are.” 

“How’re you holding up?”

“Overwhelmed,” Tubbo admitted with a frown, sneaking a glance back at Eret, “But I’ve managed to avoid being cornered by any groups yet.”

They were sat down in their cage, eyes lit up bright and dangerous. It was difficult to catch him on his own during one of these nights - people were often drawn to him, unsure of his powers. Underneath all of that danger, they mostly looked tired.

“I hope you can stay out of the way. But don’t get caught here, okay?”

Tubbo nodded, once, and turned to quickly push a snowdrop from his hands into Eret’s cell. Not much, just a token to say that she was in his thoughts.

Somewhere in the distance, someone screamed. It made Tubbo’s head throb in tandem with the rest of the commotion, and as he pushed himself up he almost fell. From this distance, he couldn’t recognise the voice, but he had to get over there.

The scream had set off an immediate chain reaction amongst the customers and acts alike. People strained and fought to get round to what was happening, the others searching desperately for harm.

Despite his dizziness, Tubbo managed to get through the crowd easily. The scream had come from the main hall, and it was obvious as to what had happened now. Dream had Fundy by his neck, lifting him high and aggressive up off of the ground. He was kicking and struggling out against him, but blood was dripping from his teeth. Fundy had _bitten_ someone.

In the background, Wilbur kept singing. His voice shook with his words, but he couldn’t stop.

When he was up on that performance stage, he wasn’t allowed to stop for anything.

“Let go of him!” Quackity was shouting from his cell, closest to the fray, but it wasn’t going to help. Dream was _angry_ , a woman beside him cradling her bleeding arm. There was no way she didn’t deserve the bite, but that didn’t mean his punishment would be any easier.

Dream moved his free hand out to his wristwatch and tapped it twice, firmly.

Pain exploded through Tubbo’s arm, followed by more noise. His knees gave out under him, throwing him to the floor between the maze of customers who had been around him.

Wilbur’s voice was the clearest, ringing out from his stage, as he shrieked a line through his song.

Tubbo couldn’t see. He was trapped on the floor, too stunned to pick himself up, surrounded by people who he desperately didn’t want to touch him. Feet were moving around him again, moving rapidly to try and get a better look at the new, exciting pain they’d just managed to witness.

Noise from the acts started up again, too.

In the distance of his mind, he could hear Quackity shouting out around him, trying to draw attention away from whatever was happening with Fundy. He couldn’t see out around him, but the crowds were shuffling fast around him in every direction.

He was going to get trampled. No two ways about it, if he stayed on the floor, he was going to get hurt. Boots stamped dangerously close to where his hand had been, and Tubbo snatched it back desperately. Maybe Dream would let him out of the show for a little bit if he was injured. Probably not. Maybe if he closed his eyes, people might step over him-

Tommy’s face stumbled into his line of sight, shouldering his way between the crowd.

Had he seen him fall? He must have done to find him, and god was his presence appreciated. There was no way he wasn’t going to get into trouble for pushing his way through a crowd, but it didn’t matter. His hands were out, using himself as a barrier between Tubbo and the people around him as he helped haul him to his feet.

“Are you alright?”

Tubbo looked around, desperately. Dream and Fundy were gone now. Bad sign. His thoughts were heavy, and dizzy, and struggled to focus on the question.

But Tommy was still staring at him, eyes wide and concerned, so Tubbo shook his head uselessly. Taking him by the arm, Tommy pulled him close against his side to guide him out to safety.

Something deeply conditioned in Tubbo’s mind tried to argue, tried to tell him that they’d get in trouble for pushing through the crowd like this, but he was too dizzy still to do anything more than stumble after Tommy, picking his way clumsily through the crowd.

Then he was being pushed gently towards the edge of a cell. Tommy was saying something, but his face was too unfocused to make any sense to him. All he could hear was crowds, hundreds of people, their voices muffled between Wilbur’s song and someone laughing. When he hit the cell wall, Tubbo sank.

He hadn’t meant to, but his world was spinning, and the ground was cool under him. Tommy was on his knees beside him now, hands on his shoulders, trying to shout something to him. Drugs hummed even louder at his mind. The world around him was foggy, and Tommy wasn’t Tommy any more. Then the world was grey, pleasant, quiet, and humming, and Tubbo dreamt.

He dreamt of roses, and thorns, and how they might look when biting into Dream’s neck.

He dreamt of peace.

* 

Someone’s hands were carding through Tubbo’s hair. They were gentle, and careful, and he was warm and comfortable, so he was happy to let them to continue. It was Wilbur, probably. He was gentle like that.

Tubbo could keep sleeping for hours.

The dizziness in his head was gone, replaced by a pleasant hum of warmth. Something that felt a little like safety.

But he wasn’t safe.

Memories of the night before hit him with a suddenness. He’d fucked up. Dream would be furious with him. And Tommy – where had he last seen him? When he’d picked him up off of the floor? How much had he missed?

Tubbo forced his eyes open, forced his body to try and fight into a sitting position.

The hands in his hair moved then, startled, and tried to rub at his shoulders, hushing him gently. For a split second, Tubbo thought it was Dream. Then Ranboo’s face came into focus, eyes wide and concerned, frowning down at him. He rubbed nervously at Tubbo’s shoulder with one hand, trying to relax him back down again.

Not Dream, Tubbo reassured himself; _Not Dream_. A friend.

His head was in Ranboo’s lap, gazing up at him from his place on the floor. The half-enderman smiled when he saw the recognition in his eyes.

“You’re awake,” he grinned, breath tinged with a sigh of relief.

Tubbo groaned a little in response, “Trying to be. What happened?”

Ranboo’s smile dropped then. He looked away, frowning and curling his fist slightly.

“Dream’s not very happy with you.”

“He’s not very happy with _any_ of us,” someone said from slightly to their left.

Shifting onto his side, Tubbo was met with Fundy. He looked... Awful. Curled up on himself, ears pressed low and flat to his head, he looked a lot younger than he actually was. Then there was the muzzle. It sat twisted over his jaw, clamping his mouth awkwardly shut and biting into the soft fur around it. He’d turned his collar up as if it might hide the thing any better.

“Fundy,” he breathed, heart aching with sympathy, “Did he hurt you?”

“No, nothing to me. He just... Put the others away for a bit.”

“Away...?”

“Back in their trailers. We’re only still out here because we fucked up.”

_Here_. Where was here? The stage, by the looks of things. He must have been passed out for a lot longer than he thought he’d been. Fainting alone wouldn’t do that to you; it was the combination of the potion.

“We’re sleeping out here then?” Tubbo asked, nervous now.

Sleeping out in the tent, in one of the cages, was really the best case scenario for them right now. It wasn’t ideal. The cold had drawn in over the winter seasons, and it crept into the main tent far worse than it did the trailers. Still, it was better than anything else Dream could do to them.

Dream had a nasty sadistic streak up his sleeve and the complete power of someone who knew it.

“If we’re lucky, yes.”

Sighing, Tubbo rolled over to look back up at Ranboo again.

“So what’re you out here for?”

Ranboo frowned again, curling a hand through Tubbo’s hair again, “Today just wasn’t my best day. I didn’t want to speak to anyone, and then I shouted at Dream for grabbing me. Bad all round.”

Tubbo frowned. Yeah, bad all round.

There had been occasions where Dream had emptied water in Ranboo’s direction for far less. He had his techniques with all of them. Refined and specific and _unique_. A punishment for each of them.

“He thinks we’re weak,” Tubbo said, voice quiet. “Me and Fundy at least. We’re not a threat to him.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fundy tense at that. Then hunch back in on himself again.

Dream had said it before. Low Risk. The ones he could shout into submission, the ones he rarely had to use violence with. The ones without impressive powers. Expendable, Dream had called Tubbo once. He had been threatening Phil, and pointed out exactly why he could dispose of Tubbo without hurting his show’s sales. It had stung then, and it stung now.

Swallowing, Tubbo opened his mouth to speak again, “We don’t have to be weak, though. I’ve been thinking about it recently, and...” He glanced at his hands, uncertain, “And I think Dream is a fucking idiot.”

He’d seen old cities. When he’d been travelling with Phil, they’d passed through ancient, abandoned cities. He had seen ancient brick and stone torn apart by plants like they were nothing. Heard stories of hemlock and nightshade, slipped into tea. People falling into rosebushes, tangled and trapped.

He’d seen people spend hours pulling weeds from their gardens only for them to come back, forcing their way through concrete and surviving, always.

Maybe he could be roses and nightshade and weeds.

“I think we could-”

Footsteps sounded from down the corridor then, and instantly Tubbo was rolling out of Ranboo’s lap, scrambling to get to his feet. It wasn’t a good time to show weakness.

“Aren’t you three a sight for sore eyes?” Dream laughed as he waltzed in, as if they were just friends meeting after a night out.

There as blood on his hands, thick and dark, and it splattered up his arms in deep splotches. Ranboo was behind Tubbo now; close at his side as if their solidarity would do anything.

When none of them responded, he shrugged, “Alright, not in the mood for talking.”

He danced around Tubbo, forcing Ranboo back from him as he circled the two, “Not that it matters. You already know the drill.”

“Cages, _yeah_ ,” Fundy spat from the floor. There was a bite of sarcasm to it that scared Tubbo. He wasn’t being careful.

Not wanting to piss Dream off more, he moved in the direction of the nearest cell. The sooner they got in, the sooner Dream might leave, and the sooner he could sleep away the freezing cold of the night.

Dream grabbed his wrist, hand clasped tightly round it. The blood was still wet, and smeared across Tubbo’s arm.

“No, you don’t have to sleep in there tonight. I think you’ll be good out here on the floor.”

Out in the open. Where they could just walk out, if they wanted to. Where they could run. Dream was pulling him in closer now, moving his hand to stroke his face.

“Really?”

“Yes,” he said, smirk etching its way out from behind his mask, one hand almost gentle as he caressed his cheek, “Because I already know you aren’t going to leave.”

That wasn’t true. _That wasn’t true_. Tubbo wanted to scream it at him, bite his hand, spring away from him and _run_ , run as far as he could make it. Run until his legs gave out. Until he could scream. But he wouldn’t, and he didn’t. Instead he stayed in Dream’s touch, leaning into it – just a tiny, sickening amount – and watched him. He wasn’t going to leave.

Dream tilted his head, just slightly. He had always known the answer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Discussions of injuries / tending to injuries (they’re not described in detail) and Wilbur’s fairly depressive this chapter. Nothing triggering in itself he’s just obviously struggling – it’s sort of bringing his L’Manberg breakdown and Ghostbur together into his mental health. 
> 
> This one is mostly just hurt/comfort with a little plot progression, and next chapter will advance things a little more!

True to Dream’s prediction, none of the three who were outside left in the night. It had been cold and bitter, frost building up around the tent as time drew on, but they hadn’t moved from the stage they’d been ordered to stay at.

Ranboo awoke shivering with Fundy curled up into his side. They had made an attempt to protect themselves by layering Fundy’s jacket over them, but it hadn’t helped much. There wasn’t any real escape from the elements. Even warm days led to freezing nights. When it was cold, it was cold, and that chill could set into your bones for hours afterwards. It was hard not to miss his trailer on days like this.

Stretching, Ranboo forced his aching muscles to loosen, his body protesting hours of curled up sleep. Then he turned his attention to Tubbo, who had somehow managed to wiggle his way out of the pile without waking the others.

“Morning,” he whispered, voice quiet as he rolled onto his stomach to look at him.

Tubbo was sat cross-legged beside him; hands cupped and busy working away. It looked like he hadn’t slept at all, dark bags beneath his eyes as he focused on the palm of his hands, fingers coaxing at the slightly curled bell of a flower.

“Hey,” Tubbo acknowledged, but didn’t look up from his work. The flower finished blooming then, flowering out into a dark shade of purple.

Ranboo frowned at him. He had bluebells piled up in his lap, but this flower was different. It was darker and somewhat wider, but still beautiful when Ranboo really looked at it.

“Do you recognise it?” Tubbo whispered, voice thin and excited.

That made Ranboo shake his head. Flowers weren’t really his strong point – whilst Tubbo had been teaching him little bits here and there, he still only really knew the common ones.

“It’s belladonna, I think,” Tubbo hissed, letting one of the leaves curl around his little finger, “It’s poison.”

_Oh_.

“Do you – are you – are you sure?”

Tubbo shook his head, “Not 100%. I would need to study it to get it right, but it’s close. I can feel it. It felt weird to make.”

“And do you think you can get to study it?”

The _‘and do you think it’d work?’_ went unspoken.

“Maybe. Next time he goes out I can ask him for more plant books. He usually says yeah, but only because he knows studying will improve my performance.”

Ranboo hummed and considered that. Every month, give or take, Dream would offer to get them something from the town that they’d stopped in. It was subject to his discretion, of course, nothing dangerous, but it still let them get something they might have wanted. Dream liked to talk to them _oh so condescendingly_ and tell them that he was doing it because he wasn’t entirely a monster. Ranboo wished that he was entirely a monster. The human part was the part that made him dangerous, made him possessive.

Still, it was nice to get a choice every once in a while.

“You really think you stand a chance of killing him?” A voice said from Ranboo’s side.

It was Fundy. He hadn’t even noticed him waking up, but the hybrid was watching them now, ears pressed sceptically to the side of his head. No, not sceptically, Ranboo noted with a frown, pessimistically. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

Tubbo shook his head, “I don’t know. I figure I have to try.”

“Well,” Fundy mused, pushing himself up so he was resting on his elbows, “The way I see it, either we kill him, or he slowly kills us for the rest of our lives. At least you’d have the courtesy to kill him fast.”

Ranboo chirped quietly at Fundy, in a way that he hoped might be a little comforting. The man was clearly running out of hope, and it was setting in at a pace that was putting him down. He supposed being in this place for years must do that to you.

Fresh blood was glinting off of the side of the muzzle where it had been displaced by sleep and conversation, and Ranboo’s heart hurt in sympathy for him. Still, it could be worse. He had seen the blood on Dream’s arms last night.

That had been deliberate.

*

It hadn’t taken long for Dream to come and give them permission to return to their trailers, but every extra second in the freezing cold had felt like hell. Ranboo had returned immediately to the trailer he shared with Niki and Eret, desperate to check on them and to huddle inside the warmth that they could provide.

Niki had practically knocked him over with a hug when he’d knocked on the door, before leaning back to run her hands nervously over his shoulders, checking him over for any obvious damage. When she found none, she pulled him back into a hug again, tighter this time.

“I was so worried about you,” She muttered into his chest, fingers rubbing gently his back.

That was when Ranboo noticed how cold Niki was. Having fire powers, she always ran hotter than the people around her, never needing to wear a coat or anything to brace herself against the wind, and always being the one to provide a comforting hug on a cold day. Now though, she was freezing, at least by her standards.

It could only mean one thing, and it killed the question before Ranboo even had to ask it. If Niki was cold, it meant that Dream had used a potion of fire resistance on her. It was her own personalised punishment, one that Dream had clearly spent hours researching and perfecting; a potion that could take the burning heat out of Niki’s soul and cool it immediately. The liquid always made her cough for hours afterwards, setting a chill into her bones that left her shivering and completely unable to use her powers at all.

Ranboo hummed unhappily at his discovery, “I was worried about you, too.”

He tucked her head gently under his in an attempt at comfort, resting his cheek against her hair. It was probably his fault that Niki had been hurt in the first place, and the guilt of that _hurt_.

“You should close the door before you both freeze to death,” Eret’s voice came from somewhere behind Niki.

Looking up, Ranboo located him across the trailer where he was finishing arranging the sofa cushions in front of the heater. His sunglasses were off. The right hand side of his face was swollen, his cheek a bruised blue and stretching up into a sickening purple colour where he’d gotten a black eye.

That aside, Eret looked unharmed. No blindfold, which was a good thing, and they smiled easily at Ranboo as they pulled another blanket onto the sofa.

Releasing Niki from the hug, Ranboo stepped inside so that he could close the door behind him, hurrying across to where Eret was messing with the settings on the heater.

“Am I good to sit in front of this?”

“Go ahead, I set this up for the two of you. There was frost on the ground this morning, I was worried.”

He held his hands out gently to Ranboo, who took them without questioning. Eret massaged his fingers with a frown.

“Okay, you’re freezing. Sit down with Niki whilst I make you a drink, okay?”

Ranboo didn’t need to be told twice. Within minutes he had settled himself down on the sofa, long limbs curled up under their blankets and soaking up the warmth of the heater. Niki was curled up into his left side, hands cupped tightly around her mug of tea, and Eret was on his right, one arm out to wrap around the others in an attempt to share some of his warmth with them.

The trio chatted idly for a while, about everything and nothing, until the conversation ultimately turned back to the inevitable.

“How bad was Dream last night?” Ranboo asked, voice quiet.

“Restless again,” Eret said, “I think he’s cottoned on to the fact that a lot of us aren’t scared any more, just tired.”

Letting out a little noise of discontent, Ranboo tried to curl into Eret’s side a little more. Other people might not be scared, but he still was. The skin on his hand was still raw and fresh from where Dream had held it underwater a few weeks ago, but his fear sat deeper than that. Dream had a way of getting in his head. His mask and the cruel sing-song tone of his words were under Ranboo’s skin, and he saw him in every nightmare, every panic attack, every nasty intrusive thought that haunted him.

Once, in a moment of weakness, when Ranboo had first arrived, he had almost broken and agreed to spy for Dream in exchange for no more pain. He had refused in the end, but the guilt over having considered the offer still screamed at him in the dead of night.

“Do you think he’ll still let us order something from the town?”

Niki hummed at that, “I can’t see why not. He rarely misses a month.”

“Good. There’s something that Tubbo mentioned wanting to get.”

“Oh yeah?”

*

Wilbur was in a bad state. It wasn’t just the cuts and bruises that were littering his skin – though Tommy knew that those were bad, and desperately wanted to fix them – but his mental health had taken a dive, too. Last night had been worse than it had been in a long time.

There didn’t have to be a reason behind his bad mental health days, but Dream caused them more often than a bad day ever cropped up on its own. When he had refused to let Tubbo return from the show last night, it had caused an avalanche in Wilbur’s mental state. He had shouted at Dream, screamed at him that Tubbo hadn’t done anything wrong, that he didn’t deserve to be outside. Dream hadn’t taken this defiance well. He never did.

They had been punished for Wilbur’s rebellion, and now he had sunk into the deep depression that came with the accompanying guilt.

He hadn’t moved from bed all morning. He hadn’t even lifted his head, hadn’t managed to do much more than open his eyes and curl up tighter under his blankets. Techno had brought him a drink – warm water, he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything else – but he hadn’t even moved to try and drink it.

Now Techno had moved away, instead quietly helping Phil preen his feathers. Neither of them were in a great way themselves, and if Techno didn’t straighten Phil’s feathers out now, they’d stay uncomfortably tangled for days. Dream rarely used a lot of violence against Phil, so he’d come away from the previous night mostly uninjured. Hurting his family was enough to keep him in line, and more than enough to remind him that he couldn’t protect them.

It was better at killing any defiance in Phil than violence ever would.

Tommy refocused his attention back on where Wilbur was lay, sighing down at his older brother. He refused to leave his side when he was like this, unwilling to let him feel any more alone than he already was, but that didn’t make it easier.

Reaching out, he carefully brushed a few stray hairs out of his face.

“Please let me clean your cuts,” he begged, nodding to the bowl of warm water he had balanced on his lap.

“I don’t deserve it,” his brother mumbled, voice dampened with his lack of energy.

Tommy sighed again. Last night, Wilbur hadn’t even let him try and stop the bleeding, and now the pillow beneath him was caked in dried blood.

“Don’t be stupid,” he started, and then, realising that he should probably be a little gentler, softened his tone, “Will you do it for me, then?”

For a moment, Wilbur didn’t reply. Tommy thought he mightn’t have heard him. Then he sighed, and muttered a _fine_ under his breath. Tommy counted it as a minor win.

Shifting himself across the bed so he had a better angle, Tommy dipped the cloth into the water. It was a little cooler than he’d have liked it to be by now, but still warm enough to be comfortable. With nervous, gentle hands, he began to dab at Wilbur’s face.

The damage was bad, but not as bad as it could have been. With the blood starting to clear up, the cuts didn’t seem as dramatic as they had before. They were deliberate – the cut along the side of his face wasn’t deep enough to scar, but had been done in a way that ensured that it would _look_ bad – had bled for a good while. The bruises were at their worst around his shoulders and neck, but the cuts were less prominent there, and his bloody nose had wiped away easily. He whimpered, slightly, when Tommy pressed against a particularly painful area, but mostly stayed quiet throughout the ordeal.

Something in the back of Tommy’s mind urged him to make a joke, try and cheer him up a little, but he couldn’t come up with anything funny. He was still shaken up, too.

Finishing up working on Wilbur’s face, Tommy dropped the cloth back into the bowl.

“I’m just going to put this in the sink. I promise I won’t be long,” he said, shuffling back across the bed. An uninvited thought at the back of his mind clawed out at him – ‘ _Are you reassuring_ him _that you won’t be gone long, or yourself?’_ Tommy forced it away. He wouldn’t be leaving his family again any time soon.

Pushing himself off of the bed, he went to dump his equipment in the sink, sifting through the drawers to see if there were any painkillers left to bring to Wilbur. Finally he managed to locate a half-empty packet from under the edge of the cutlery drawer and pulled it up into his hands. One would have to do.

Behind him, the front door opened.

Phil was on his feet so fast that he almost knocked Techno backwards; snatching his wings up so he could get between the door and his family. He was already set to aggression, Techno readying himself at his side to get in the way of Dream if he got in. Then Phil dropped his wings and opened his arms.

Tubbo came crashing into them, letting his dad envelop him in a tight hug.

He let himself fall into it, let Phil catch him in his arms and pull him out of the doorway and into safety. Techno instantly relaxed, and Tommy lit up with relief. Whilst Tubbo was shivering, he looked mostly unharmed. He was safe.

With a shout of his name, Tommy collided into the hug beside them, wiggling under his dad’s wings to get closer to his brother. Techno joined them too, hand reaching out to ruffle Tubbo’s hair.

Nestled into a hug together, Tommy let a little of his fear unwind a little.

From the middle of the pile, Tubbo laughed quietly. It was a soft laugh, the kind of laugh that was stressed and tired, but _safe_. Here, with them, even if he was freezing cold.

“Where’s Wilbur?” He asked when the others finally pulled away.

Then he noticed his brother in the back corner, curled up in on himself in bed. He’d barely even reacted to the door opening, never mind Tubbo’s return. Tommy wasn’t sure that he’d even realised that he had come back.

He reached out to gently take Tubbo’s hand, tugging him in the direction of Wilbur.

Tubbo followed him silently, not asking any questions as Tommy lead him over to where Wilbur was still laying. He guided him down so he could sit on the edge of the bed.

“Wil, Tubbo is back, look,” he said, reaching for Wilbur’s hand as carefully as he could. Gently, he put Tubbo’s hand in Wilbur’s, lacing their fingers together.

“See, he’s safe,” Tommy reassured quietly, rubbing a gentle circle into the back of his hand, “He’s safe, we’re all safe.”

Slowly, Wilbur’s eyes came to focus on Tubbo. First his hand, which he squeezed gently, as if to test that it was really there, and then on his face. He managed the tiniest smile when he recognised that he was actually there, and Tommy breathed out a huge internal sigh of relief.

Tubbo didn’t need to be told what to do, and immediately he took over, moving both hands to cup Wilbur’s.

“I’m right here, big guy. And so are you.”

Closing his eyes, Tommy let himself finally relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is already written but if there's anything anyone would like to see more of let me know and I'll see if I have space


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, we’re starting to move the plot along a little quicker now. Skeppy has entered the game (not physically yet, but we’re confirming that he’s here) and now that they’ve confirmed Karlnapity is 100% canon I’ve sprinkled a little bit of that in – but don’t expect it to be a huge focus! Thank you Darcy for helping me with ideas again! Next chapter is all Ranboo, so look out for that

It was past midday when Puffy turned up at Bad’s trailer with a fierce determination in her eyes and no intention of leaving without an answer. He let her in with a confused tilt of his head, quickly letting her into the safety of the inside.

As soon as she got through the door, she crossed to the kitchen window and pulled it firmly shut, locking it tightly.

“What’re you doing?” Bad asked.

“Making sure no one can hear us.”

That made Bad pull a face, “That’s never a good sign.”

Puffy hummed, then shrugged, “You ever had any good signs round here?”

“Fair enough,” Bad said, moving so that he could take a seat on the sofa. He was far too tall for the caravan. Even sat down he struggled to fit comfortably inside of it – god knows how he ever managed to get any sleep with half of his legs hanging off of the edge of his bed.

Not that Puffy had time to consider this. She was on a mission. Moving so she was stood directly in front of Bad, she folded her arms.

“Tell me how you escaped last time.”

Bad’s expression immediately crumpled. He shot through shock, then a wince, then reluctance until he landed on confusion.

“Why? I’m still here.”

“But you got out, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but... Dream is never going that kind of thing happen again.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t build off of it.”

Bad tilted his head, “You’re planning an escape?”

Puffy nodded.

“You know it’ll hurt if it goes wrong, don’t you?”

That made Puffy soften a little. Uncrossing her arms, she sighed and sat down next to Bad, hand resting sympathetically on his shoulder.

“I know. But we can’t let that make us give up.”

Bad turned his gaze to his lap with a frown, twisting his hands together. By all accounts, Bad should have been free of this place. He had escaped a lot further than any of them had ever managed to get before. Was almost free. Could have made it. But he had come back for Skeppy.

When Skeppy had been caught during their escape attempt, Bad had come back for him. It was intrinsic devotion; unable to risk leaving his best friend, even if it meant compromising his own position.

There had been hell to pay for it, but Bad had proved it was possible. And Puffy needed that knowledge.

“I’ve been studying Dream for some time,” Puffy said, voice quiet, “And he’s on edge at the moment because we’re united. Which has made him paranoid, but it’ll make him stupid, too. So I need you to talk me through what you did that night.”

For a second, Bad was quiet. Then he seemed to make his mind up about talking, and turned so that he was facing Puffy, eyes serious and focused, talking low and fast, “Maybe you can use my thought process, but we didn’t plan in any depth. We just _stole_ at first. Because eventually someone would come along that we could trade with for something useful, and then we could get out of there.”

“Basic stuff, like jewellery. On regular performance nights, during the intervals, we’d take it in turns to either distract guests or steal. I guess we were careful, never stole so much that it’d be obvious. Eventually we got talking to a guy who’d offered to bring us bolt cutters and a taxi from a distance, no questions asked, in exchange for everything. It was better that he didn’t ask too many questions about why we were doing it. I think he thought this was all with Dream’s permission.”

“When the night came, we cut ourselves out of there and ran. But, well, you know the rest,” Bad trailed off with a sigh, finally breaking eye contact as the emotions caught up with him.

Puffy nodded slowly. They had all seen the rest. She had watched from her caravan window, unable to help, as Skeppy was caught by Dream. Bad had already been in the taxi, far enough ahead that Dream might not even have seen him. He had been so involved with fighting with Skeppy that Bad could have easily left. But Bad, loyal as ever, had stepped out to save his friend, and the others had just watched in horror.

In their weakened states (they were always weak these days, Puffy noticed, because despite the performances nothing was ever quite enough) they hadn’t stood a chance of fighting their way out of there.

Bad had shrunk in on himself as he’d spoken, pulling his shoulders in so far that he actually looked small for once.

“I thought he was going to kill him – both of us. I couldn’t just leave him.”

His voice was less than a whisper, and Puffy’s heart broke for him. She wanted to say something, to reassure him that everything was going to be okay, but it would just have been empty promises, so she held her tongue. Dream was strong. Stupidly, horrifically strong. He would have killed Skeppy without hesitation if Bad hadn’t returned. There was nothing she could say to make it better.

Finally, she settled on knocking their shoulders gently together.

“You did a really brave thing, you know?” She told him, trying to give him a gentle smile.

“But we still didn’t get out.”

“I’m sorry for making you talk through all that again,” Puffy said, trying to force a bigger smile, “But you’ve been really helpful. Thank you.”

Bad managed a weak smile, and then shook his head as if to get rid of the thoughts that were clouding it. He swished his tail slightly, thoughtfully, and smiled again, “If anyone can get out of here, you can.”

Puffy broke into a grin, gently elbowing him in the side, “Are you getting soft on me Bad?”

Laughing, Bad stuck his tongue out at her, “Never.”

*

Karl missed the piece of fabric he was trying to darn for the third time and sat his outfit down with a curse. His eyes were swimming too much for him to focus. The needle blurred and waved in front of his eyes, refusing to stay still in his field of vision for long, even when he forced all his energy into looking at it. Not that he had a lot of energy at the moment. Even his failed attempts at trying to sew were making his fingers feel weak and exhausted.

He was used to this haze by now. Dream kept him topped up with two tablets a day, morning and evening, just like clockwork. But this morning he had given him extra, and it had changed the usual background buzz into an inescapable drag.

When Dream had first found him, he had thought he was an angel. Karl’s powers had been completely out of control back then; shifting between human and inter-dimensional form without even feeling it, being thrown into the past without warning and at jarring, inconvenient moments. He’d been time travelling so much that he had almost entirely forgotten who he was when he wandered stumbling into Dream’s circus.

He hadn’t even meant to be there. Somewhere in the past he’d wandered out into the field and had been spat out into the present beside the tent. Now he had a fairly large suspicion that Dream had been baiting him there for a while, but he had picked him up out of the mud, cleaned him off and promised he had something to keep him safe in one place.

In his amnesia-ridden state, Karl would have had to put his trust in anyone who’d taken him in. Not that he would have thought twice about trusting Dream when he first met him – he was so nice to him then, his acting well-oiled and convincing. And the drugs _had_ helped! He was himself all of the time now, and he only ever shapeshifted when he was meant to. Whilst it made his powers more difficult to use, it kept him whole, and it kept his memories safe.

Karl supposed that made him Dream’s prisoner in more ways than one. He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to. He hated Dream, but he needed him, too.

At some point, Quackity had noticed him struggling with his sewing, and was stood in front of him now, hands held out gently in front of him.

“You’re too out of it right now,” he said, coaxing the fabric out of his hands, “Let me give this to Tommy to patch up for you before you stab yourself.”

Sighing, Karl relinquished the material to his fiancé, “I’m not _that_ bad.”

To demonstrate this, he leant over to kiss Quackity’s cheek and promptly missed, succeeding only in bumping his nose off of his forehead.

“Sure you’re not,” Quackity teased, amusement heavy in his voice.

Karl took advantage of his position by pressing a quick kiss to his forehead instead, “Whatever, you’re just mad that you’re not tall enough to kiss my forehead.”

With a gasp, Quackity drew back from Karl, mock offended, swatting away his hands.

“Never mind! I’ve decided I’m not helping you anymore because you were mean to me.”

“I’m not sure you were helping in the first place, actually.”

Quackity seemed ready to make another remark, but Karl cut him off early with another kiss to his forehead, this time remaining there, gently held against him for a moment. He moved his arms to snake around his waist, warm and comfortable where they were stood together.

Karl could have stayed there forever with Quackity in his arms, his fiancé gently relaxing into his touch. For a second, he closed his eyes, and just let it be _them_ , happy, together.

It was maybe a little selfish of Karl to be glad that Wilbur and the others took the brunt of the violence last night, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d seen the way that Dream could get under Quackity’s skin, and he couldn’t bear to watch it happen more frequently than he already had to. Of course Quackity wouldn’t feel the same – he cared about Tubbo, and the others – but Karl just wanted him _safe_.

More than once, he’d seen Dream reduce him to a shaking mess with yelling and insults, rarely having to make good on his threats of violence. He knew Quackity’s history and had figured out how to target it.

It didn’t matter, though. He had left him alone last night, and that was the most important part.

Still, Karl pulled him a little closer, a little safer, a little closer to his chest. The safety of the last night would be fleeting, but at least Quackity and Sapnap were safe.

Speaking of-

“Where’s Sapnap?” Karl asked into Quackity’s hair.

“Went for a walk with Bad and Puffy. We can join them, if you think you’re up to it.”

“I think that’d be nice.”

It didn’t take them long to find Sapnap, Bad and Puffy. They didn’t have much area that they could actually walk, which left them doing laps of the field that they had pitched up in. Not many people were out – which was expected, no one wanted to get in Dream’s way right now – but Karl could see Fundy practising in the big top. He was lifting weights at a feverish pace, as if slowing down might kill him. Karl wanted to go over and ask him if he was alright, but disturbing him felt like a bad idea. He probably needed space.

Instead, he pushed on with Quackity, head still swimming as they finally caught up with the others.

The closer they got, the more obvious it became that they weren’t on a normal walk. Whilst they were keeping it casual from a distance, up closer they could hear the hushed tones of people who were discussing something serious.

“I’m just worried about putting him in the firing line, that’s all,” Sapnap was muttering, before he noticed Karl and Quackity approaching and changed his tone to a cheerier, upbeat one, “Hey there! You’re joining us?”

Karl was less sure now. “Unless this is a bad time?”

“No, no,” Puffy said with a wave of her hand, “It’s nothing.”

Quackity hummed, “It sounded serious.”

His tone was light, but there was an underlying edge to it.

Sapnap shot a nervous glance at Bad and Puffy. Even if the other two were prepared to lie, he wasn’t prepared to keep a secret from his fiancés, not at the moment. He looked at Bad specifically when he spoke again, “I want them to be involved in this. _Especially_ if you need them for it.”

“They’re going to have to know eventually, Cap’,” Bad said in Puffy’s direction.

She nodded, “I know. We can tell them, but we’ll have to keep walking. I hope you guys are ready to hear this.”

*

They were talking about something important. Dream knew that. But he also knew that he had likely beaten any remaining rebellion out of Phil and his family, so at least he only had this group to focus on at the moment.

Unfortunately, Puffy and Sapnap were the two people he was most reluctant to hurt.

Which meant nothing, of course, they just happened to be the two he had the biggest soft spot for. That didn’t mean he was _above_ hurting them as badly as the others. It just meant that he might feel the tiniest bit of guilt over hurting them later.

He still felt bad about damaging Puffy’s horns, but she had pushed him.

All of his acts were getting too close together at the moment. Too friendly with each other. He needed them to be close, but not close as a collective. To stay in their groups, but not pass information between them. Separating Fundy from the others last night had helped a little; he’d not even gone back to Niki and Eret since then, deliberately isolating himself. That had been a success, but he could do with ruffling the dynamic of the others.

Especially Puffy. He had half a mind to take her away altogether. She was the biggest threat to him at the moment, with the exception of Techno. In the back of his mind, Dream thought that maybe Puffy did actually used to like him.

He had given her a home, after all. Even if he had done that by kidnapping her, the circus was a more stable environment than the seas had been. And she had been _nice_ to him. Asked him questions about himself, got to know him a little. They’d even cooked together a few times.

But then she’d gotten close to Niki and everything had started to go wrong. At first he had hoped he could punish Niki and she’d leave Puffy alone, but that hadn’t worked. Now they were together and she had twisted the way that Puffy looked at him. Now she tested him, constantly, and _tried_ to piss him off. It was like she wanted to get hurt.

It made him... Uncomfortable.

Dream wanted to break up their little conversation now. He could zap them and send them running back to their trailers.

His hand hesitated on top of his wristwatch. No. He’d let them keep talking for now.


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days passed in a relative quiet. Outside of performances, there wasn’t much to be done. Ranboo was making an effort to try and stay out of Dream’s way, but it didn’t seem to be working.

No matter how hard he tried to keep himself to himself, Dream’s attentions always seemed to turn back to him whenever he was bored of messing with Tommy.

Which had been uncomfortably frequent since the night that Ranboo had spent outside. Wilbur and Tommy had sort of closed in on themselves, rarely leaving each other’s side, and Dream had been forced to leave them alone for the pure sake of needing Wilbur to be functional enough to perform again. Dream might have been a sadist, but he wasn’t stupid. Whilst Ranboo had no doubt that it’d bring him _great_ joy to split the two up and see them spiral, Wilbur was a great selling point for the circus and he needed him.

And that had resulted in Ranboo being the next best thing for Dream.

Somehow it seemed like he was _always_ there. Either he was sat up in the stands whilst Ranboo was practising, watching him as he danced, or he’d be forcing him to go on a walk with him or help him with counting up the ticket sale revenue.

Ranboo usually went along with it for the sake of something to do. If Dream was on his tail, then he didn’t want to hang out with the others – it would only lead Dream over to them, and that’d make them uncomfortable. So instead he let their captor hang around him and take that burden alone, only occasionally sneaking desperate looks over at the others when he thought Dream wasn’t watching.

He had been practising one day when Dream hopped down from the stands to lean over the barriers at the bottom row. Ranboo had seen this smirk under his mask and known that he was going to ask him something uncomfortable.

Dream had rocked on his feet as if he was being playful, voice full of charm when he asked, “How would you like to go to town with me tomorrow?”

Unsure of how to respond, Ranboo had just stopped dancing to watch him.

“Seeing as you’ve been _so good_ ,” Dream had said, (like a dog, Ranboo had thought), “I thought you might enjoy some time out.”

“Wh-Why me?” (Ranboo had hated himself for stuttering then.)

“I mean, we’ve been spending so much time together recently. And you liked to explore, right? I’m offering this because I trust you.”

(He didn’t want his trust – oh, god, he never wanted his trust – but he did want to get out) “Sure. That’d be nice.”

That was how Ranboo had found himself stood in front of the mirror, trying to hype himself up for leaving the circus for the first time since he had first arrived.

“You’re going to be fine, you know,” Eret said from behind him, making him jump.

He hadn’t heard them approaching at all, too transfixed on trying to find a good excuse not to go today.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump,” they said, moving to give Ranboo a little more room, “I just wanted you to know that you’ll be fine out there, and you should try and enjoy it whilst you get the chance.”

Turning away from the sink to look at them properly, Ranboo hugged his arms in close to himself, “What if I don’t know how to act out there? Besides, I don’t want to spend hours outside with _him_.”

Eret sighed, gently, and put their hands out to gently smooth over Ranboo’s shoulders, “I don’t think you have much of a choice about going out right now. But you’re strong, and kind, and you don’t need to worry about how the public react to you at all. You don’t need any help with the good people out there, they’ll love you. The bad people will leave you alone. None of them will try and hurt you. Unfortunately, Dream is kind of your safety net out there, but you’ll be safe. Try and enjoy it.”

“I... I hope you’re right.”

“When have I ever been wrong about anything?” Eret grinned, giving him a knowing look that lit up their whole face, “Now go show the world who’s boss.”

“I think I’ll be meeting them as a nervous colleague, but I’ll give it a shot,” Ranboo laughed, voice soft.

“That’s good enough for me.”

Waving goodbye to Eret, Ranboo headed out across to Dream’s trailer. The caravan stood at odds with the others that were parked around it, being in far better shape than most of the others, and the only one to house only one occupant. Not to mention it was the only one not to have a huge metallic exterior lock.

To his relief, Dream had opened the door before Ranboo was forced to knock. Just being near the thing made his anxiety spike, much less having to summon its owner directly.

Dream was as chipper as always when he threw his door open, grin easy to see under his slightly raised mask.

“Good morning, Ranboo,” he called, lazily flicking the door closed behind him as he hopped down the stairs towards him. Ranboo was a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see inside Dream’s trailer. Whilst the thing scared the life out of him, very few of the circus’ acts ever got to see where Dream actually _lived_ , and the curtains were always drawn tight whenever he wasn’t inside.

“Morning, Dream,” Ranboo replied, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

A shopping list was handed to Ranboo as Dream got to the bottom of the stairs, along with a backpack that matched the one that Dream was already wearing, “You don’t wanna lose that list, otherwise people are going to be pissed with you.”

Ranboo looked down at the paper in his hands. No, he definitely didn’t want to lose the one bit of freedom his friends got.

“But you’re smart, I _know_ that you wouldn’t lose it.”

That was a thinly veiled threat, and Ranboo swallowed, nodding nervously, “I’m pretty good at keeping an eye on things. Ender senses and all that.”

“Good,” Dream clapped Ranboo’s shoulder, “Glad to hear it. Now, the town isn’t too far from here. I have a feeling that you’re going to like it quite a lot. Follow me.”

Without questioning, Ranboo followed.

It was weird, being out of the circus. More often than not they’d park the tent somewhere that they could _see_ the town in the distance, but they’d rarely get close enough to have any idea what was going on down there. Normal people with normal lives and normal routines.

People who didn’t wake up every morning to practise a circus routine they didn’t even want to do.

It was kind of nice, Ranboo thought, to see the normality of these people when they weren’t at the circus. As they made their way along the lane to the town, they had encountered more and more houses with folk just going about their daily routines. They barely even blinked at either of them, too wrapped up in their own activities to worry what a half-enderman and a masked man might be doing out and about.

Even those who did acknowledge them gave them little more than a cheery wave. Still, Ranboo kept close to Dream’s side. It wouldn’t do him good to let his guard down completely. Even if he hated the man, Eret had pointed out that in public he was actually providing a little bit of a safety net – people knew who Dream was, and respected him, and they wouldn’t upset him to his face.

Evidently, Dream knew that. He walked with the confidence of someone who’d not had it knocked down in a long while.

He chatted idly with Ranboo as they walked, and Ranboo tried his best to maintain the conversation without ever really hearing anything that was being said. Instead, as they approached the shops, he was focused on the list that he had been handed earlier.

It read a list of familiar requests;

_Cake mixture_ (for Niki, who wasn’t allowed the individual ingredients but could have the mix as a treat),

_A blanket_ (this one Ranboo could guess was made by Phil),

_Notebooks x3_ (that was a request made by both him and Karl – he made a mental note to ask him how that was going. Ranboo was unsure who had requested the third notebook – Phil on Wilbur’s behalf, possibly),

_A book on plants_ (Tubbo’s request),

_Salve for maintaining horns_ (Puffy or Bad, Ranboo could presume),

_Yarn_ , and _Gloves,_ (for Eret and Sapnap, respectively.)

It was a modest list, but one that Ranboo quite liked the idea of being allowed to shop for. He wasn’t sure how much freedom Dream would give him to help pick out items, but it felt like as close to getting gifts for the others as Ranboo could manage. If he got given any choice in the matter, he could help pick out things that they’d actually like, rather than just generic items.

“Where are we heading first?” Dream’s voice asked, cutting abruptly through Ranboo’s line of thought.

“Uh.”

The question felt like a trap. He couldn’t figure out how, but there had to be a wrong answer. Like Dream was just waiting for him to say the wrong thing so that he could zap him in public or yell at him or something. Subconsciously, Ranboo’s hand moved to tug at his shirt around the shock band.

“I don’t know,” he said, finally, despite it feeling like the worst answer, “Where did you want to start?”

Dream tilted his head at him, “Well you have the list, don’t you? What’s the first item.”

His tone was playful, but Ranboo knew better than that. _He’s deliberately fucking with you_ , something in Ranboo’s mind suggested. Maybe he was. But that didn’t mean he had any sort of excuse to drop his guard.

“Oh, uh, first up is Niki’s cake mix. So the grocery store I guess?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Ranboo spent the next thirty minutes trailing round behind Dream, slowly gaining more and more confidence to actually break free of his side a little and look at his own things. He picked out a rainbow cake mix for Niki, one with edible glitter that he thought might catch her eye. Then Dream had put in their groceries order to be delivered directly to the circus, tossing an extra bar of chocolate in Ranboo’s direction “as a freebie for helping out.” Ranboo had tucked it safely into his pocket for later.

They’d continued to push around the shops together, dropping in at the pharmacy to get the salve for Puffy or Bad and then the market stalls to collect the gloves, yarn and blanket. Finally, they pushed on to the bookstore.

By this point, Ranboo was getting confident enough to walk around apart from Dream a little, making sure he still stayed vaguely within the same area.

Pushing into the store, he immediately hurried over to the pretty display shelf of notebooks at the back. For their price, they were gorgeous, trim finished and dyed in different colours with an embossed leather cover. There was no doubt that he had to get these ones; a iridescent green for Karl, black for himself and a pale yellow for Wilbur.

Then there was just the question of the horticulture book for Tubbo. Glancing nervously over his shoulder to see if Dream would follow, Ranboo made his way round to the non-fiction section.

It took him a minute to locate the plant books, but when he eventually found a few he slid them out of their places on the shelves and flicked immediately to the index.

Really, he had no idea what to look for. His eyes scanned quickly along the words, looking for something on the page that might jump out to him. Would it be under ‘P’ for ‘ _poison_ ’? Or would he have to check each individual listing; ‘B’ for _‘Belladonna_ ’ and ‘H’ for ‘ _Hemlock_ ’? He had no idea, but he needed to go fast before Dream could look over his shoulder and ask too many questions about what he was doing or why he was so interested in the exact plants in the book he was getting for Tubbo.

Flipping through the pages, Ranboo searched desperately for any hint that the book might be good enough.

“Can I help you?” A voice came from behind him somewhere.

“Oh no, I,” Ranboo started, using one finger to hold his place in the book, “Actually, maybe I do. Do you work here?”

When Ranboo finally looked up to see who had addressed him, it took him active effort not to make a noise of surprise. The man who had asked him was surprisingly tall, bordering on being as tall as Ranboo himself, and was unmistakably a hybrid, too. His hair was a deep shade of green, with matching dark freckles dappled across his face in large, distinct areas. He had a book clutched under one hand, and a pencil tucked behind his ear.

And, Ranboo noticed a second too late, what was very obviously a work uniform.

“Well,” the man said with a laugh, “I didn’t just start wearing the uniform for fun.”

Laughing, Ranboo shook his head, “Yeah, that’s my bad. But I could do with some help finding a book, actually. I’m looking for one that will, uh, help me identify what’s safe to eat and what isn’t out in the wild. I don’t really fancy poisoning myself.”

He was surprised at how easily he’d managed the lie, and even more surprised that the man seemed to believe it. Immediately he was at the shelves, scanning them until he came across the title he was looking for and he heaved it off the shelf to hand to Ranboo.

“This one ought to do the trick. It’s basically a beginners guide to anything you might find out in the forests – plants, berries, flowers – anything you could possibly need and what they do.”

Ranboo took the book from him gratefully, opening it against his palms to look inside at the contents. Again, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but it looked promising. He thought he saw foxglove in there as he flicked through the pages.

“You seem a little young to be travelling out here alone,” the man said, voice cool and conversational. When Ranboo looked a little surprised, he shook his head, “Small town – it’s pretty obvious when someone isn’t from around here.”

“Oh,” Ranboo said with another laugh, “I guess I must stick out, then. But I’m not alone.”

He gestured over his shoulder in the vague direction of Dream, “I have actually got an adult with me. I’m from the circus.”

The man’s eyes darted momentarily off of the shock band as Ranboo moved his hand, and the sight of it seemed to make him frown.

“You’re from the circus, then?” He asked, tone a little more careful this time, “You still seem pretty young by all accounts. Are your parents performers?”

Before he could stop himself, Ranboo laughed, pulling his other hand through his hair, “I don’t actually know my parents.”

“Oh,” the man said, and Ranboo couldn’t help but think that he might have given the wrong answer somehow. Then, curtly, he straightened up and gestured to the books in Ranboo’s hands, “I suppose he’ll be paying for this?”

Ranboo glanced over his shoulder now, noticing that Dream had come up behind him during the conversation. He wasn’t smiling.

“Yeah, I’ll be paying for them,” Dream said coolly, though the same hint of a smile was on his voice, “Looks like you chose nice books. Good job.”

“Thanks.”

An awkward tension had shifted into the air, and Ranboo couldn’t quite put his finger on why. There was no way that the man knew – the band could have been anything, and besides, he had way more important things to be focusing on. Still, the tension felt weird. Dream didn’t seem to like him.

As they paid for their books and loaded them into the backpack, the man casually asked, “So, can you buy tickets on the night? I’d kind of like to see what all the fuss is about.”

That seemed to please Dream back into amicability again, “Mhm, ticket booths open at 6pm on the dot. I’d get there early, though, we tend to be very busy on a Saturday.”

“Well,” the man said, handing the final notebook over to Ranboo and giving him a smile, “I’ll be happy to come and see if you live up to expectations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm considering doing a few spin-off series away from the plot that're just about life around the circus if anyone is interested? I was also considering doing a work abut how Dream initially obtained each of his acts.
> 
> Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! I was v excited to introduce Sam to this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I am very glad that everyone was excited to see Sam because the next few chapters very much rely on him being here. In today's chapter we're setting the scene for the next two chapters after this, so stick with me as we really move into the heart of this au!

There was a lot that Puffy prided herself on. She was resilient, and stubborn, and she always tried to see the best in everyone.

When she’d first arrived at the circus, she had tried to see the best in Dream. Sure, she had been angry when she was first brought in, of course she had been, but when she’d seen that there was a _real person_ beneath the mask, she’d started to talk to him. Tried to remind him that he was human after all.

She had been sure there was someone good in there. Underneath that mask she had seen someone damaged and hiding, projecting his own lack of control by controlling others.

For a while, she and Dream had been close.

She was one of the few people who had ever been allowed into Dream’s trailer. They’d go on walks together, and she’d go on trips into town with him. Her duckling. Every second she was with him she had been gently trying to coax some humanity out of him, and as a result she had ended up growing more than a little bit attached to him. They had liked each other. Genuinely been friends. He would give her extra things, treats and time with her shock band off.

The closer she got, though, the more she could see his personality under the mask. Dream was a sadist. He was cruel, and hurtful, and had only ever stopped hurting her because she’d managed to endear herself to him.

Puffy could have kept on Dream’s good side and kept herself mostly out of harm’s way.

But to do that would have meant leaving the others to get hurt, and she couldn’t morally do that in good stead. She had to defend them, too. Especially with Niki around.

These days, when she was lay in her trailer at night, listening to the sounds of Fundy sleeping across the room from her, she sometimes still wondered if Dream had any humanity left in him. He certainly hesitated when it came to hurting her. Not that he wouldn’t do it - he was happy to scare her, too – but he never hurt her like he did the others. Nor Sapnap, who he had seemed to grow quite attached to.

Guilt ate at her sleep, chewing up the edges and keeping her up. What made her feel more guilty, though, was the fact that she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to kill him if it came down to escaping.

But she was going to get out of here. She was going to get them all out of here. And when she got out, she was going to open a little bakery with Niki where they could wake up every morning and light a fire. They would cook together, flour dusting Niki’s cheeks as she laughed. Ranboo might live round the corner with Eret and Fundy, the three of them coming to sit in the bakery with whatever Niki had come up with that day. And the five of them would eat together, sharing their food and talking into a late and sunny morning.

The dream life she had created in her head was the place she escaped to at night now. Planning little bits out, potential scenarios. Birthdays and dates and a place to call their own.

Now she had something to follow, she couldn’t be stopped. That was the other thing that Puffy valued about herself. She was more stubborn than anyone.

*

It was late at night, and Tubbo hadn’t slept at all. He hadn’t told his family what he was planning either, and had just pretended he was particularly interested in finishing reading his new book. Sat in the corner of their caravan, away from them, he was pouring over the text by candlelight.

The way the flame flickered was making it even more difficult to read, but he was getting through it. There were only certain parts that he was interested in, anyway.

Ranboo had pressed it into his hands with a worried nod, and Tubbo had known he didn’t have a choice about taking this into his own hands. It was too dangerous to involve anyone else. The entirety of the last week had proven that to him.

His family were slept across the room to him, curled loosely around one another. Tubbo wished he could join them, but there was work to be done, and he’d be damned if he didn’t attend to it as soon as possible. Then he could relax. When they were out of here, he could curl up under Wilbur’s arm and sleep for as long as he wanted.

Returning his focus to the book, he ran his fingers gently along the page. Ranboo had chosen well. The whole thing was beautifully illustrated; each page depicting its chosen plant in delicately inked colour, displaying the plant right down to the roots and its various stages of life. It was perfect. With enough patience, he could probably grow anything from this book, especially with the properties of each one listed in intricate detail beside it.

Making one final check to make sure the others were asleep, Tubbo put his hands out in front of him and began to work.

*

“C’mon, you’re almost there, you just need to keep trying,” Sapnap reassured, trying to give Quackity a smile that matched his words.

His fiancé was frustrated, and they both knew it. They’d been practising for hours now, and Karl had long since passed out on the sofa between attempts.

With a sigh, Quackity turned away and tucked his wings in again.

Sapnap watched as his body changed; his hair growing out longer and his whole jacket shifting and morphing with him. Even after hundreds of times seeing Quackity shapeshift, it was still weird to watch his body move and flex as if it was nothing. It was different to when Karl did it. When Karl shifted, it was in a flash of light and a sudden change. Quackity’s transformations took time, and he never let anyone see his face as he did it.

Form stabilising again, Quackity turned back to let Sapnap inspect his work.

Even after hours of practise, it still took Sapnap effort not to react to seeing his own face staring back at him. He frowned a little as he searched for the little details that Quackity had been focusing on, glancing between the mirror and his fiancé as he tried to analyse the bits he was less certain of.

Quackity was getting better. He’d always been good, really, but whenever he transformed he always struggled to get the faces 100% accurate. They were close – close enough to get a good crowd reaction whenever he mimicked someone – but not close enough to actually fool anyone who knew the original well.

Sapnap could see that now especially. His outfit was perfect; his shirt had been replicated so well that he could even see the singe marks at the edge of his left sleeve, but parts of his face were wrong. Quackity had made his nose a little too small, and his freckles sat in uneven patterns that didn’t match his own. He had managed to get his eyes perfect (that was one of the things that Quackity had perfected right from the start, and had made Sapnap blush knowing that he had spent enough time looking at his eyes to have memorised them), but the incline of his smirk was still slightly off.

“Any better?” Quackity asked, nervously awaiting feedback.

“You got my ears right this time, but the freckles are still off.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” he groaned, raking his palms against his face. As he dragged them across the skin, his natural facial features seemed to be pulled back into place and Sapnap made a pointed effort not to look, “I’m so sick of this! We’ve been working for hours and I’ve still not got it.”

“Hey, hey, c’mere,” Sapnap soothed, opening an arm out for Quackity to sink into, “You’re doing so well, I’m so proud of you. Soon you’ll be able to do it perfectly and then we can get on with Puffy’s plan.”

Melting into his arms at the compliments, Quackity buried his face into his shoulder. It was weird, holding Quackity in a frame that he wasn’t familiar with, but it didn’t matter. He was still _his_ _Quackity_ , no matter how he looked at the time. Sapnap’s hands found the soothing patch between his wings and rubbed thoughtfully, letting him relax further into him.

“You really think that we can pull this off?”

“I... Don’t know. I think so. We have to try, right?”

“We have to. I want us to be somewhere safe.”

Sapnap stole a quick glance over at where Karl was asleep on the couch, knees tucked up in on himself, and his chest swam with affection for both of them. He knew that Karl was a little apprehensive about the idea of escape, and he didn’t blame him. When he had first arrived, Karl had been a mess. But that didn’t mean he was going to give up on securing a better life for them. They’d figure it out. He’d figure it out if he had to force the recipe for the medication from Dream bit by bit. They were going to follow Puffy’s plan and they were going to get out of there.

Having optimism and hope felt like a dangerous thing, but Sapnap refused to put it down. Not when they were this close to getting a plan to break out of there.

“It’s late, though,” he said, rubbing Quackity’s back one last time before releasing him, “Let’s get to bed.”

“Good idea. We can finally join sleeping beauty over there. He gets more sleep than the rest of us combined.”

With a gentle laugh, Sapnap moved to scoop Karl up off of the sofa, “I wish that could be me. When we get out of here I’m going to sleep so hard you won’t be able to talk to me for at least a day.”

Quackity rolled his eyes from where he was rearranging his blankets to make room for his fiancés around him, “All the freedom in the world and the first thing you’ll wanna do is sleep?”

“Mhm,” Sapnap agreed, manoeuvring Karl into the space between him and Quackity in bed, “I like my sleep. Besides, I’ve got the two best people in the world to curl up next to. Why would I want to do anything else?”

*

Across town from the circus, a man was locking up his bookstore. He hadn’t meant to stay behind so late at work, but he had gotten caught up – first in sketching out new building designs, and then in worrying about the boy that he’d seen earlier that day.

Slipping the key for the shop back into his pocket, Sam frowned. The boy who had come into his shop had seen scared, nervous, eyes darting around the room every couple of seconds.

Then there was the man who was with him.

His name was Dream, Sam knew that much. There was no way he could have avoided learning Dream’s name; he had been the talk of the town since he’d pitched up nearby. His reputation preceded him, clearly, excited talk of performances and dancers who could breathe fire or glide across the stage.

On the first day they’d arrived, Sam had started seeing posters everywhere. His customers were talking about it within days. Everyone had wanted to go.

But it was a freakshow, too, not just a circus. That worried Sam. One look at the hybrid boy who’d entered his shop had left him wanting to reassure him that being a hybrid was not, in fact, something that made him a freak. Then Dream had come over and Sam had thought better of it. The boy had seemed almost scared of him, even as he pressed into his side whilst they were paying, as if he had been conditioned not to show it. Sam had wondered how come he hadn’t had his own money, and why Dream had spent a few seconds flicking through his items before deciding to go ahead with the purchase. It had put him on edge.

Sighing, Sam shook his head.

“Or, you’re being paranoid,” he muttered to himself, picking up the pace as he wandered back towards his own house.

Maybe he was totally wrong. Maybe Dream was a great guy. He’d considered that in depth, too – maybe the boy didn’t know his parents because they’d abandoned him for being a hybrid or something – it certainly wasn’t unheard of. Maybe the kid had been treated badly by strangers and _that_ was why he’d seemed so nervous. That would make Dream someone who had gone out of his way to protect him and offer him a stable job.

Sam considered that again; the boy sinking into his saviour’s side out of relief that he was there for him. A truly good older brother figure, maybe paying for his items for him because he was buying him a present. He’d seemed nice enough. (or charming enough – that was different to nice)

Maybe. _Maybe, maybe, maybe_.

There were too many possibilities for Sam to be able to make a proper judgement from a conversation that had lasted 10 minutes at most. It could be nothing. It could easily be nothing. But the worry wouldn’t leave him alone, and he had already resolved himself to check. Tomorrow he’d close up shop early and head down to the circus like Dream had suggested, see if he couldn’t get himself a ticket.

Seeing a performance might help, and maybe he’d be able to catch one of them after the show. Maybe he could bring a book for the kid or something, just something small that wouldn’t freak him out.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if his suspicions were confirmed. There wasn’t a handbook on how to react to this kind of thing. But he had to know. He couldn’t leave him in good conscience.

Sighing again, Sam let himself into his house. He had more thinking to do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're really ramping up towards the big chapters now; the next two are going to be quite intense.   
> Thank you all so much for the support <3 it means the world to see everyone's comments and discussions!
> 
> Also uhhh how is everyone coping with canon right now? It's not gonna change anything in this au, but, like, woah


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh guess you guys are finally gonna see a little about what the actual circus is like? Several chapters in? The performance is quite quick it’s just sort of demonstrating what happens but feel free to skip past that part.   
> Longer chapter, things are starting to get a little more serious/plot heavy now so watch out for things getting darker. Next update will be v soon.
> 
> Also whilst I'm here I just want to give a quick shout-out to the people who've been supporting me throughout this fic; there's been two or three commenters who've turned up repeatedly with their support. It means the world to me and it's absolutely great to have you guys here <3 <3 <3

Sam had made up his mind about going to visit the circus. It hadn’t been hard, really. From the moment that he’d seen the metal wristband, he had known he couldn’t just let his worries lie.

When evening rolled around the next day, he packed up shop early and got changed into something that he thought might pass as being semi-formal, suitable for both a night out and having to have a serious talk with someone if needs be. In the end he had settled with a shirt and a bowtie, which didn’t seem to quite fit the vibe he wanted but he thought he could pull off pretty well. Then he had left the house, following a bunch of other people from the town as they trailed up towards the fields.

The circus was popular. Incredibly popular. Even arriving half an hour before ticket sales opening, there was already a queue of people waiting around waiting to get in.

Crowds milled about talking amongst themselves, greeting friends and comparing outfits. Sam supposed that for most of them it was just a regular night out, but he had more work to do. He was focused on trying to get an idea of how the circus around him was organised.

The big top stood out above everything else. It was huge, towering into the sky, its peak sitting at least two stories tall. Several smaller tents connected to it, and Sam presumed that maybe equipment was stored there. That or costumes and makeup, maybe.

If he strained, he could see a few caravans pitched up round the back. They weren’t big, but they seemed to be in decent enough shape.

He wanted to go and explore, see what the circus had to offer behind its jaunty exterior, but he fought the urge down. The line was starting to move now, upbeat music playing over the speakers. A man with a shock of blue hair and bright, shining scales across his skin had come out to man the ticket booth (another hybrid, Sam noted), followed by a woman with pink hair and a box of confections.

Filing into the circus didn’t take long, and Sam found himself with a reasonably good seat behind some of the regulars from his store. They had excitedly waved him over to the seats behind them, and they had made small talk about everything and nothing until the lights finally went down for the performance to begin. One of their kids had even given him some of their popcorn, so he counted that as a win. It had helped calm his nerves a little, but not much.

When the performance had actually started, it was difficult for him not to get wrapped up in it. Every part of the show was meticulously crafted, lights brilliantly timed and mirroring every act that came out.

For a while, Sam forgot what he was there for altogether. A singer came out and opened the show, messy curls pushed back in an attempt to be neat as he sang high and loud above the stage. When he’d first stepped out, Sam had thought he had seen the telltale shadow lines of a well disguised series of bruises along his neck. Then the man had opened his mouth to sing, and all his thoughts had become blurry and awestruck until the song ended.

He was followed in quick succession by fire dancers who seemed to produce their own flames from their finger tips, a man who danced around in a mirage of colour, shifting into shapes and forms that Sam could barely even wrap his head around, and then by the boy from the bookshop himself.

The boy danced his way across the audience, glitter dusted across his cheeks until he made contact with the fire-breathing girl. He spun her round until she flew out of them in a blaze of sparks, pirouetting in time with the music.

From high up in the rafters, the most intimidating man Sam had ever seen swooped down. He glided above the stands, spinning and turning with practised ease, but never actually flying. His wings looked shorter than they should have been – stubby, almost, with straight-cut edges. Different to any birds that Sam had ever seen, but he had never really spent a lot of time looking at them. The visuals of them sent a spark of worry through his mind, but nothing that he could put his finger on.

As the winged man landed and drew himself up to his full, intimidating stature, the rest of the dancers backed up off of the stage and a piglin hybrid stepped out from the other corner.

The piglin was clearly a warrior, scars mapping out across his skin in rough streaks. He held a chipped axe tightly between his hands. If Sam focused on it, he could see that it was blunt, sharp tips covered with rubber, but he almost didn’t want to look closely. He wanted to see where the performance was going.

As the warrior stepped into the centre of the stage, pink braid whipping out behind him, a burst of flame from the other direction forced his attention to a demon who stepped out from the fire.

The newcomer was tall, ridiculously tall, holding a slender sword between his hands.

It was a show, clearly, but Sam couldn’t tear his eyes off of it as the two fighters met each other in the middle. They taunted each other for a little, posed as if they were ready to fight, before launching into a battle sequence. It was a dance beneath its grandeur, clash of metal on metal calculated and predetermined, but it didn’t make it any less fantastic to watch.

When their act was finished, the singer returned to the stage as other acts spilled out into the ring. A boy that glowed bright with every beat of the song, another boy who left a trail of flower petals behind him as he walked and grew bunches of flowers to throw into the audience. Both of them, Sam noted, looked worryingly young, like the boy from the bookstore.

Sam zoned out to the siren’s song again then, letting the playful haze engulf him as another man took an audience member by the hand, stood them on a podium and then disappeared behind a curtain, reappearing as the man he’d plucked from the audience. At that point, all he could do was clap breathlessly. All his worries had been pushed aside within the melody and all Sam could think about was how beautiful the circus was. No wonder Dream was known for miles around.

Then the performance ended, along with the song, and everyone was on their feet, clapping wildly. Sam was up, too, hands moving of their own accord as he applauded the act.

Dream walked out onto the stage and the sugar-sweet trance that the song had put Sam in shattered with a violent thud. It didn’t seem to have the same effect on any of the others – but they hadn’t come in with an agenda.

As the circus’ owner took his place on stage, Sam cursed himself for getting distracted by the performance. The man spoke, and his voice was all honeyed words and charm. If he _was_ doing anything wrong, he made a very good job of hiding it around members of the public.

Sam had work to do.

Carefully, quietly, he extracted himself from the stands, making his way alongside a mother with a crying child so as to avoid catching suspicion. Then, as soon as he was outside of obvious eyesight, he darted off to the left, pushing out of the big top and around the outside of the tent.

Immediately, Sam regretted not having done more research. He had absolutely no idea what he was looking for, or where he’d have to go to find the performers.

There wasn’t light coming from any of the trailers, so he presumed maybe they’d be in one of the tents off to the side.

Which meant there was only one way in.

-

It took Sam a good deal of undignified scrambling and wiggling to manoeuvre his way under the heavy canvas of the tent. He was sure he’d pulled out some sort of guide rope as he did it, but he finally made his way under and rolled his way into the room on the other side.

Straight into a panicky looking demon with a plastic scabbard held out in front of him in an attempt to look like it was a real sword.

The scabbard was waving as he spoke, surprise leaving it uneven in his hands.

“Who are you?” The demon said, trying to sound tougher than he really was, “And what’re you doing?”

Sam put his hands out to prove he was unarmed, moving himself gently into a sitting position, “My name is Sam and I work at a bookshop in town. I promise I’m not here to cause any trouble. One of your performers stopped by my store the other day and I wanted to check up on him.”

The demon’s eyes widened in surprise, “Ranboo?”

“Maybe? I don’t know, he didn’t tell me his name. He was half-enderman, I think.”

Sam noticed now that the demon wore the same metal wristband that he’d seen on the boy (Ranboo, he presumed). Had all of them been wearing one? He’d been too distracted to notice.

“Stay right there, okay? I’m going to go and get him, and if he doesn’t recognise you then you’re in trouble.”

The demon was only gone for a second, shouting down the corridor. When he returned, he had Ranboo in tow, his eyes wide and nervous. He only looked more anxious when his eyes fell on Sam, shaking his head slightly.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, voice thick with concern. Then, as if suddenly remembering that he was a performer, he forced a smile, “Did you enjoy the show?”

Sam saw through it immediately with a frown.

“I was looking for you, actually. Maybe I’m overstepping a boundary here, but,” he paused, unsure if he should continue, “But I noticed that metal cuff thing around your wrist and then I noticed that some of the others were wearing them, too, and – look, I’m no expert – but they look _dangerous_ and I couldn’t think of a good reason for anyone to be wearing them.”

He was rambling and he knew it, but he couldn’t find a way to stop himself. “I’m sorry for turning up like this but I had to check you were okay.”

For a second, Ranboo said nothing. He twisted the metal bracelet in his hands, and Sam noticed that the back of one of them seemed scarred and hurt. Really, Sam was expecting the boy to turn to his companion and tell him to kick him out for going too far.

Then he sighed, “All of us.”

“What?”

“All of us have the cuffs, not just some of us.”

Sam levelled him with a concerned stare, “And what are they for?”

Ranboo shot a nervous glance at the demon – Bad, Sam had heard Ranboo saying earlier – who put a hand out to lay reassuringly on his shoulder.

“They’re to keep us here. To stop us running away.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Sam nodded slowly, “He’s holding you here against your will. And he’s hurting you? I saw the siren, he had bruises all along his neck. That was Dream?”

Bad had been pulling Ranboo slowly closer and closer towards him, as if he could shield him from the world around him. The boy was shaking slightly now, and Sam’s heart was breaking for him. And steeling with the need to get him out of there.

“He-” Ranboo opened his mouth, and then closed it again as his voice cracked.

Bad took over, “Dream isn’t a nice man. And he doesn’t care how much he hurts us. Or what stupid cramped trailers he keeps us in.”

Sam hadn’t really needed to hear it. He had already made up his mind to help – even if it had just been Ranboo, he would have helped. Looking at him now, shrunk into his companion’s side, he knew he didn’t have a choice.

“Let me help you. I could get you out of here, you could run away and be safe.”

The words seemed to hit the other two like electric. Ranboo flinched, slightly, hand jumping to Bad’s side in surprise.

“You _can’t_. It’s too dangerous, for everyone. Especially for you. He has us all on these wristbands so he can control us. We’d never be able to get out in time.”

“But what if-”

“ _No_.” Ranboo’s voice was firm now, tone final, “I’m not going to let you put yourself on a suicide mission to help us. We’re already trapped, you’re not.”

Sam was stressing now. Images of the performance were falling into his mind now, shot after shot in horrific details that he’d managed to miss out on at the time. A sharp metal band around the piglin’s neck, a long scar that ran down the fur of the fox hybrid he’d seen. The oddly shaped wings of the man he’d seen. Well-covered bruises on almost all of them and the forced voice Ranboo had used to ask him if he’d enjoyed the performance.

“Then I’ll go and come back. I’ll rally the townspeople to me and if we’re all together then he can’t stop us.”

A dark look passed over Bad’s face. “Yes, he could. You don’t know what he’s capable of. Who’s going to come and fight for a bunch of show freaks anyway?”

“I would,” Sam said, quietly, “And I _will_. People around town owe me favours, I could call them in and they could come and help us. I mean, I can’t just leave you here. I promise I’ll come back for you.”

“You have to be 100% sure you want to help,” Ranboo said, quietly, “Don’t get people’s hopes up.”

*

Ranboo was watching Sam as he made his promises, terrified of getting his hopes up. There was no reason for a stranger to get involved, yet he had. He had listened to them when they’d told him what was happening. He would be stupid to put any faith in a stranger, and yet...

He wanted to believe that they could be free. Sam had explained his plan to them, talking about how he was going to go back and rally supplies. He had even offered to sneak Ranboo out with him, but he’d refused. There was no point in risking something before they had backup. But the way Sam spoke, the way he listened. The way he took Ranboo’s hand in his when he told him, briefly, about the burn scars, it gave him hope.

Their conversation was short, but by the end of it, he was nervously optimistic. Not truly optimistic, not in the way that Bad seemed to be getting, but hopeful. _Sam had come here to protect him._

_He had seen that he was hurting and he’d gone out of his way to try and help him. For him_.

“I’ll be back by tomorrow night, I promise,” Sam said, giving Ranboo one last gentle tap on the shoulder, “Now how do I get out of here?”

Ranboo led him in the direction of the corridor door, “There is actually an exterior door just here if you come this way.”

“That could have saved me some embarrassment earlier,” Sam laughed. “Tomorrow night, okay? After the performance meet me back round here.”

Ranboo nodded, “Got it.”

With that, Sam pushed the door open with a smile.

A flash of green shot forward and Sam was choking, coughing and kicking as Dream drove his hand into his neck. He had Sam helpless in seconds, hand wrapped tight around his throat as he dragged him down to the floor. It happened before he could even yell.

Ranboo watched in horror as Sam’s claws worked at Dream’s hand, drawing blood but never loosening his grip.

“Stop!”

_He hadn’t even seen Dream there. How long had he been listening?_

“Please, let go of him,” Ranboo shot forward, trying to get in between Dream and Sam.

_This was his fault. Sam wouldn’t have been here if it wasn’t for him and his stupid, stupid behaviour-_

Dream was dragging Sam now, paying no attention to the way he kicked and dragged across the floor, tearing the skin on his back up.

_No_.

Ranboo could already see where Dream was heading; towards the trailer that he only ever locked people in when they had really fucked up. It was barely even a trailer, more like a cupboard on wheels. Sam was losing his fight now, his kicks slowing down as the oxygen deprivation set in.

_This is your fault-_ _Ranboo’s mind was screaming, snarling, far too loud for coherent thought_.

“Put me in there instead! This wasn’t his fault, I invited him here, he doesn’t know what’s really happening-” Ranboo was begging now, panic thick in his voice and thrown off of every word.

_Stop him stop him stop him youhavetostophim_ -

“He’s not a part of this! He’s innocent!” He was crying, helplessly, burn of them tearing into his skin.

_Dream’s going to kill him_.

Tears already starting to bite at his cheeks, Ranboo dived at Dream. Any remaining sense of order had gone from his mind. It was just him, Dream, and protecting Sam, protecting someone who cared. Colliding with Dream, his fist bounced off of his shoulder uselessly.

Then Dream had whipped round to stare at him.

The cold, unmoving fury in that mask was scarier than his face could have ever been. Ranboo whimpered, but tried again. He hit blindly at his captor, fists reigning down in fast, useless blows.

Dream flicked his wrist.

Pain blossomed throughout Ranboo’s arm, sending him screaming to the ground in agony. The shock had knocked him off guard, his fingers trembling and shaking as he desperately tried to fight his way to his feet.

_It’s all your fault, get up, stop him-_

Two arms wrapped around him before he could kick up off of the ground, locking him in place. Kicking and struggling in raw, aimless panic, Ranboo continued to fight.

Then, realising he stood no chance of getting free from whoever was holding him, he continued to shout at Dream, screaming as he dragged Sam up the steps.

“Ranboo,” Techno’s voice urged, “Ranboo, _you have to breathe_. He’s gone.”

Through his shuddering breaths, Ranboo barely heard him. Sobs were racking his body, sending jarred, violent spasms through his spine as he tried to keep shouting after Dream, begging him to come back.

Techno tried again, “Please, you’re safe, just breathe with me. _He’s gone_.”

There was no stopping the wave of tears that rolled off of his cheeks, splattering against his skin with a hot, burning hiss each time.

Finally, Ranboo gave up the fight altogether. Unable to free himself, unable to get words out through his sobs, he let himself collapse against Techno as he rubbed his back in gentle, cautious circles.

“You’re okay,” he mumbled, voice low, “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

_No_ , Ranboo’s head cried with an energy that his body had lost, _it’s not okay. A man is finally kind enough to help you and I get him hurt with stupid, reckless optimism_. Maybe Ranboo deserved to be trapped in the circus. Where he was kept firmly under control. Where he couldn’t get anyone else hurt.

Silently, Techno continued to rock him as he shook.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events of this chapter are taking place at the same time as the events of the previous chapter, with them meeting midway along the line. Expect a little more violence from Dream!
> 
> Sorry if this chapter feels a little clunky, work got sort of intense but I really wanted to get this chapter out because I was excited about it!

Niki was on edge. Every fibre of her body was burning with a low, sparking tension. What they were doing was stupidly dangerous, and it was making her finally feel alive.

Beside her, Sapnap was equally tense, his shoulders pulled up and dangerous, ready to move if the worst came to the worst. He held Dream’s keys so tightly in one hand that his fingers were shaking, flicking through them as he tried to decipher which was the key for his trailer.

The performance had finished less than five minutes ago, but that didn’t mean that they had very much time to work with. With the end of each show, Dream would wander down into the crowds with a select few of the acts, and he’d talk with the public. One by one he’d charm them and work each and every one of them under his spell. And it worked, every time. He barely had to try. The public worshipped him; their benevolent circus owner who brought joy to their towns.

It made Niki feel sick.

She pushed the nausea down. Her friends were out there, pretending that everything at the circus was _just fine_ and keeping Dream occupied whilst she and Sapnap worked, and she had to take the risk for them.

Finally, Sapnap pulled a slender golden key free from its ring, nodding at it with a grimace.

“Are you sure that’s the right one?”

“I think so,” he said, tone thin and determined, “It has to be.”

Between Niki and Puffy, they’d managed to put together a plan. It wasn’t a safe one, and it certainly wasn’t a reliable one, but it was all they had to work with. Niki had baked a cake with the mixture that Ranboo (not Dream, she refused to say it was him) had got her from town, and had sectioned off a few pieces to trade with visitors of the circus the night before. It was inconspicuous enough to look like something they’d have been selling anyway. No alarm bells raised.

Then, when they’d gathered the money, it had just been a case of going round until they could trade with someone for some sticky putty, or some gum, or something else that they could make a mould out of. That had been the job of Puffy and Skeppy, who were most often allowed down in the stands to entertain the public pre-show.

Niki thought that it would have taken weeks before they’d gotten lucky enough to find someone with it, but they had found it on the first night. Now they just had to actually pull this off. Dream left his keys to one side when he was greeting the public so as not to look intimidating. Knowing that his acts would be too scared to steal them.

_Thinking_ that his acts would be too scared to steal them.

Taking the key from Sapnap’s hand, Niki pressed it firmly into the putty she was holding, then flipped it to push it into the other side.

Looking at it now, she knew that it wasn’t great. She wasn’t entirely sure that the putty wouldn’t just melt through completely. She wasn’t sure about anything bar her need to _try_ , her need to fight and at least make an attempt. She owed the others that much.

The next part had been the trickiest to plan. Finding something small enough to melt easily but big enough to fit the mould had been difficult, especially in their situation. In the end, they had ended up just breaking off the bathroom door handle from Sapnap’s trailer. There would be hell to pay if they got caught, but it reduced the chances. They had been careful about it. No one outside of the people directly involved knew anything, which would keep all of them safer. Just so long as Dream never hung around in their trailer for long enough to notice anything missing.

Replacing the keys to where he’d found them, Sapnap put his hand out for Niki to take. She locked their fingers together gently, and then scooped her other hand to the side, creating the start of a sphere. Placing the metal between their hands, Sapnap finished it.

“Are you ready?” She asked, levelling her gaze at him.

He shrugged, “As I’ll ever be.”

“Then let’s begin.”

Niki and Sapnap’s fire worked very differently. He was blaze-born, soul always burning with a flame that simmered gently inside of him. When he heated up his hands, it was like the flame began under his skin and burned outwards, licking up his palms first before finally bursting into flame.

Niki, on the other hand, had been gifted with fire outside of her genetics. She lacked the qualities of a blaze and instead her fire burnt sharp and tense through her fingers, down her throat.

Her hands sprang to life first, and then the metal was engulfed in flames.

-

The space in Dream’s personal tent was getting unbearably hot, even with the door to the outside world open. Niki was glad that she barely felt the heat, but even this was starting to make her sweat.

Combined flames were licking up her arm now, devastatingly bright, but the handle was slowly starting to react to their touch.

There was no turning back now.

Freedom felt closer than it had ever been, locked in between the determination in Sapnap’s eyes, the way Niki set her jaw firm against the strain of keeping her powers on a consistent high for so long. She wouldn’t let another opportunity slip by them.

Under the ferocious heat, the handle was starting to warp and shift and pool into the cupped edges of their hands, finally getting to the right melting point.

As it liquefied, Sapnap hissed quietly, urging Niki towards the mould that they’d created. Tilting their hands as one, they poured, letting the molten metal hiss and sizzle against the putty. For a second, Niki was sure that it was going to burn straight through and warp the shape. Then it held, just, and started to take its form.

With a gasp, Niki looked up at Sapnap, eyes alight, “It’s _working_! It’s actually working!”

He met her eyes with a grin, “I can’t believe it,” he gasped, breathless, pulling her into a tight hug.

They had done it. The hardest part was over; they could leave now, they could show this to the others once it had cooled. Finally, Niki could see their endgame.

*

Cursing quietly, Quackity scanned the crowd again for any sign of Dream. He’d managed to keep a close eye on him at the very end of the performance, he and Puffy trying to keep their approach subtle, but he’d lost him now.

“I can’t see anything,” Puffy hissed from beside him, ears flattened in frustration.

Being disguised as Sapnap did have one perk; Quackity could see over the crowds far better than he would have been able to before. Even then, he was struggling. The crowds were packed in far too densely, and the only person he could see standing out against the groups was Eret; their eyes shining bright above the others.

He shook his head, “Nothing. I don’t understand how we’ve lost him.”

“Dream is good at moving without being noticed. Come on, we’ll find him.”

Puffy linked her arm gently through Quackity’s, leading him at a sharp left through the crowds to the stands where they could get a better vantage point.

They had been lucky so far, no one had come up to Quackity assuming he was Sapnap and asked to see his fire powers. Really, Quackity had no idea what he’d do if someone did. Lie, he supposed, but he hadn’t prepared one. Keeping Sapnap’s facial features perfect was taking up enough of his concentration as it was.

Still, even from a better angle, there was no sign of Dream.

In the distance, someone shouted, loud and fearful. The sound was muted under the crowd, but Quackity and Puffy were close enough to the origin to hear it.

“ _Shit_.”

“Was that-?”

“It can’t have been them,” Puffy faltered, “I’m sure it wasn’t.”

It didn’t matter. If someone was shouting, there was definitely trouble. Grabbing Puffy by the arm, Quackity ran.

Stumbling to a stop outside, fear shot through Quackity’s spine.

Ranboo was sobbing on the floor. Shuddering breaths were tearing through him as he screamed, voice fighting to find coherent words. Techno had his arms wrapped round him, fighting to hold him back and out of danger.

He was shouting at Dream, who had an unfamiliar man clutched in his hands, tearing him up the stairs into the holding trailer.

Instinct told Quackity to run over to Ranboo and comfort him, but he forced himself to stay still, swallowing dryly. This was bad.

Dream crashed back down out of the trailer, throwing the door closed behind him.

He was storming across the grass to where Ranboo was. Every part of Quackity ran cold, Puffy’s nails digging into his arm.

“I’ll deal with you later,” Dream spat as he tore past Ranboo, voice a low, snarling threat.

Past him and on his way to his trailer. Where Niki and Sapnap still were. They had to stop him, had to do something before he caught them, especially in this state.

Taking Puffy with him, they moved to attempt to cut Dream off.

“The crowds are really missing you out there,” Quackity started, already knowing it was hopeless as he put himself physically between Dream and his path to the trailer.

Dream shoved him out of the way, “Get out of my way, Sapnap.”

Against every natural instinct in his body, Quackity ignored him, forcing himself and Puffy in his way again.

“I’m sure whatever Ranboo did it was a mistake! The show must go on, right?” Puffy’s voice was strained, pushing the edge of panic.

Anything they were saying just seemed to piss Dream off more, his pace speeding up.

“Come on, man. What’s the issue?”

Something snapped in Dream. He spun round in a violent pivot to face Quackity, and he realised, a second too late, that Dream was _angry_. Not just trying to be scary, but _genuinely furious_.

Fury bristled off of him as he squared his shoulders at them, arms out, “Quit getting in my fucking way,” he snarled, voice taut and dangerous. He grabbed at his wristwatch violently and pressed his fingers into it.

The shock tore through his arm immediately. It burned across his body, and he couldn’t stop the scream as it left his mouth, throwing every part of his powers into violent conflict with each other and forcing out a vicious spasm as he returned back to his natural form. His knees buckled as he fought to keep upright, crashing him against the floor. At his side, Puffy had let out a cry that was mirrored by Ranboo and Techno in the background. He had shocked all of them.

Puffy pushed her way in front of Quackity, shielding him with her body.

“I promise it’s not what you think,” she said, voice shuddering through the painful aftershocks.

Dream had frozen. Once again, Quackity realised what was happening a second too late to defend himself. He had shifted back to himself again.

It was too late.

Dream ripped Quackity up by his wrist, twisting it as he forced him up. Within seconds he was dragging him towards the holding trailer he had just taken the other man to, movement violent and far too fast to let him catch his feet, sending him stumbling and tripping over himself behind him.

The grip on his wrist didn’t change, Dream’s fingers biting into his skin and bruising where they touched.

There wasn’t any fighting Dream, only desperately trying to catch his balance between stumbling to his knees and getting dragged up again. He wrenched open the door for the holding trailer, causing its occupant to start upwards in surprise. Then he was shoving Quackity into the cell part of the trailer, slamming the door locked behind him and he was gone again.

Somewhere outside the door, Puffy tried to say Dream’s name.

“Don’t move from here.”


	9. Chapter 9

Things were bad. Techno couldn’t argue his way around that fact – they were in danger, and there was nothing that any of them could do to stop that danger skulking through their defences and crushing them in the night.

Dream was angry. Angrier than Techno had ever seen him; all of his manipulative charm burnt up in a furious outburst. Techno wasn’t sure that he had ever seen Dream being _really_ angry until this point. Pissed off, yes. Violent and shouting, definitely. But never completely overwhelmed by the emotion, a thundering rage barely contained within him.

It didn’t scare him. (No, nothing scared Techno. If he didn’t want it to scare him, he wouldn’t let himself feel it), but it did bother him. It put the people he cared about in danger.

Ranboo especially.

Glancing over his shoulder, Techno snuck a look at the boy. He was still buried in Phil’s chest, crying silently as tears poured down his cheeks.

Which was an improvement on earlier. He had been alternating between panic attacks and fits of heavy, uncontrolled sobs since they had managed to get him inside, but now his energy was slowly wearing down to the silent tears of someone who just can’t stop. Phil was gently running his hands through Ranboo’s hair, trying to keep him comforted without putting too much pressure on him. Ranboo, finally, was beginning to stop shaking.

With a quiet hum, Techno finished up making cups of tea. He didn’t know how Ranboo had his, so had made it extra sweet in the hopes the sugar would at least revitalise him a little bit.

Scooping it into his hands, he crossed the trailer to offer it to him.

“Here,” he said, pushing it gently out in front of him, “Drink this, it’ll help.”

Ranboo unfolded himself from Phil’s side to look at Techno. Looking at him now, his face was a mess. His cheeks were streaked with red, angry burns where tear tracks had torn up his skin; cutting fresh again over old scars and bringing up new ones. It looked as if Phil’s shirt had been protecting him from the damage of the last few minutes, but enough had already done beforehand to leave a distinct mark. Staying tucked into Phil’s side, he reached out to take the tea in shaking hands.

Automatically, Phil moved his free hand to gently steady the side of the mug, making sure that Ranboo wasn’t going to spill it all over himself for his shaking.

“Thanks.”

Returning to the counter, Techno grabbed his own drink and one for Phil, leaving Phil’s on the coffee table beside him before taking his own seat opposite.

From where he was sat, he could see out of the window. He hadn’t had a chance to draw their curtains yet, but it occurred to him that he should. Not that it mattered. There was no one out there any more.

Dream had been so angry that he had ordered all of the guests to leave. That was something he had never done before, no matter how angry he had been. Appearances were an important thing to Dream. Not to mention the fact that he had electrocuted them all in public, too. Shock punishments were something that was reserved for freakshow nights, not the family-friendly, cheery performance nights. He had forced them all to return to their trailers, dragging the ones who didn’t move fast enough for his liking. Not caring who ended up in which one, as long as he could slam the door closed and locked behind them.

There had been no way in hell that Techno was letting go of Ranboo whilst he was in that state. He had picked him up and ran with him towards his own trailer, tucking him inside where he was safe. But it had meant he’d lost track of the others.

He could tackle that later.

Beside him, Ranboo had managed to get the cup to steady in his hands, pulling up close to his chest where the heat could warm him. He’d barely said a word since his last panic attack.

Leaning over, Phil gently tucked a piece of hair behind Ranboo’s ear, gentle and paternal, “This wasn’t your fault, you know.”

Ranboo just looked at him. He was far too polite to disagree with him, but his face said it all. There was too much guilt in his eyes.

Techno searched for the right thing to say.

“He’s right, you know,” he said, eventually, “You didn’t ask Sam to come. He came here of his own free well, and his own kindness. He took a risk to try and speak to you, and that’s okay.”

“But-”

Techno pushed on, “People don’t come into our lives because we make them. They come into our lives because things happen. That doesn’t mean that it’s your fault.”

For a second, Ranboo looked like he wanted to argue with that. Then he nodded, slowly, fixing his gaze back down on his mug again. His fingers rubbed circles into the ceramic, gentle and rhythmic.

“Why hasn’t Dream come for me yet?”

His question was plain and simple, spoken into his cup. And it was the one question that Techno really didn’t want to answer. There was a nasty answer to it, and he wasn’t sure if Ranboo hadn’t figured it out yet or if he was just avoiding thinking about it. Dream would wait until he calmed down before he punished Ranboo for this. He would want to make it _hurt_.

*

The holding trailer was cramped. Even though Quackity had shifted himself to be as small as possible, his companion was all legs and there was no way that they were ever both going to fit comfortably.

It was cold, too. The whole trailer barely counted as one; it was just a gross, tiny cage inside a wooden box. It wouldn’t have been comfortable for _one person_ , let alone two.

Quackity was a little shaken, but not as much as he could have been. Tense, yes, but his head felt fine. He had more important things to focus on, like the way his arm had swollen up black and red and screaming with pain, or the stranger who was curled up opposite him in a stunned, dysfunctional silence. 

Apparently, his name was Sam. He had a nasty ring of bruises around his neck and the inconsistent cough that only came when someone had been choked. Quackity had shown him how to sit so that his breathing would come easier. It had been received with a concerned look from Sam, but Quackity had ignored it, guiding him gently into sitting comfortably in the tiny area. Since then, all they had really done was shift around until they were crushing each other as little as possible.

Now that they had managed to make themselves as spread out, Sam was watching him in awkward silence. He kept nervously glancing at the shock band or the bruises on his arm, as if he wanted to say something but he couldn’t figure out how to do it politely.

He had to put him out of his misery.

“It’s not broken, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he said, running his fingers gingerly over the swelling. Given the way that Dream had dragged him, he was incredibly lucky that it wasn’t, but he hadn’t heard a snap.

Sam swallowed and nodded tensely, “I’m glad.”

His voice was a little hoarse, but better than it could have been. He shifted uncomfortably.

“How did you even end up here? You’re not one of us,” Quackity heard the dark edge of his tone, and forced a laugh, “You must have really fucked up to end up in here with me.”

The joke fell flat in the enclosed space, echoing off of the walls around them. Sam didn’t laugh, but he did manage a semblance of a smile.

“I was just trying to help. I didn’t realise that things were this bad.”

Quackity did laugh at that. “Things are often worse. I’m only here because I was trying to escape.”

“I’m sorry that this didn’t go well for either of us.”

“Don’t be,” he snorted, “No one would expect you to succeed.”

Sam looked hurt by that comment, and Quackity felt bad, so frowned and added, “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just... Dream. He’s not an easy man to work against, especially if you’re trying to do it spontaneously.”

“Will he hurt Ranboo?”

There was hesitation.

“I don’t know. Probably.”

Sam sighed, “That’s my fault, then.”

Leaning his head back, Quackity closed his eyes, “No, not really. Look at the pretty lights and fancy cotton candy sales in this place. There’s no way you could have known.”

“I still did it, though.”

“But you tried. That’s more than most people have ever done.”

After a beat of silence, Sam looked at him again.

“Is Dream going to kill me?”

That brought a grimace to Quackity’s face. It wasn’t out of the question for Dream to threaten to kill them – he’d seen him threaten to kill Tubbo if his family didn’t behave before, discussing how disposable he was in the general scheme of things. He had even threatened to sell a couple of them on; Skeppy and Niki especially. And whilst Quackity had no doubt in his mind that the threats were real, he also knew that they were unlikely. All of them were worth more breathing, and worth more as a set.

Swallowing, he shook his head at Sam, “Probably not. You’re a hybrid, right? You’re worth way more alive.”

Sam pawed gently at the green splotches that ran up his arms.

“He’s not going to let me go, is he?” That was a statement, not a question.

“No, he’s not.”

*

Across the campsite, three other trailers sat, curtains pulled tight closed against the anticipation of the night.

Karl was sat in his trailer with Tommy and Wilbur, quietly whispering as the three of them shook. Each of them was without members of their usual party, with no idea what was going to happen to their missing companions.

Just two trailers over, Sapnap and Niki were showing Bad and Skeppy a crudely made key, one that might _just_ fit into the lock of Dream’s cabin. Maybe. The key had done nothing to settle their anxieties. Leaning across the table, Skeppy reached out to curl Sapnap’s fingers back around the key, hiding it from sight. With it came a warning; _keep it safe, keep it hidden. Dream still goes through our belongings often_.

The final trailer was filled with apprehension. They sat at the windows of their caravan, trying to get a better look out at the world around them. No one had told them anything. Whatever was happening, it was outside of their plans, and they were alone to face the worries of it. Fundy had turned the heating up high, letting Tubbo and Eret fight off some of the chill as they watched, waiting.

*

Dream’s temper had calmed significantly since he had dragged Puffy away and back into the storage tent. By now, most of the fury had melted away and the calm, sadistic-but-collected mask was starting to fall back into place.

It didn’t detract from the clumsy bruises he had given her when he first began to interrogate her, but he was far smoother now. More deliberate with his actions.

For the seventh time that night, Puffy repeated the most important thing she had to say.

“Ranboo had nothing to do with what we were doing. He’s innocent in this.”

Finally, for perhaps the first time that night, Dream seemed to believe her. He was sat on the table above where she was sat on the floor, fist curled over in a casual movement, as if he was inspecting his nails. Puffy knew far better.

“So,” he said, tone casual, “What exactly _were_ you doing?”

Puffy scrambled for an excuse. Had she really expected not to be caught? She definitely didn’t have a lie prepared, and she scolded herself for being so stupid. There was no way of pretending that they didn’t have something planned, that much was too obvious, but she had to reduce the damage.

So, instead, she appealed to his ego, “We hadn’t gotten much planned yet. Mostly we just wanted to see whether or not we could trick you. I knew that you’d be too smart to fall for it, but we wanted to try, just in case.”

Dream tilted his head to one side.

“You know me well, Puffy,” he said, and there was a smile layered on thick beneath his mask, “But I know you, too. There’s no way that you didn’t have something else planned, you wouldn’t miss an opportunity.”

“Maybe, but we didn’t manage to do anything, did we? Ranboo’s visitor got in the way.”

She was playing a risky game and she knew it, but she didn’t have much of a choice. Dream’s fist curled a little at the mention of Ranboo. Whatever had happened with those two, Dream was _furious_ about it, and Puffy was slowly starting to piece together why.

He _expected_ his acts to try and defy him. He expected them to scratch and hate and try and escape. They already belonged to him, so whilst he was furious with her right now, a member of the public defying him was something new. They were the ones who were supposed to love him, and had never questioned him before.

Whatever internal thoughts he had been having about that seemed to be pushed aside, Dream forcing himself to focus.

“And why,” he said, pacing his words slow and deliberate, “Would Quackity disguise himself as Sapnap if he wasn’t up to anything?”

Puffy shrugged, trying to look as if she genuinely had no idea, “They live together. I guess he was just easy to copy whilst we were trying it out.”

“Hm. You know I don’t believe you, don’t you?”

“I was kind of hoping you would believe me,” Puffy laughed, waiting for him to hit her again.

The hit didn’t come, and Dream barely moved. He just sighed, quietly, a sigh that bordered on a laugh, “You don’t need to tell me the truth. I’ll find out. Besides, I have better plans for you. If I wasted all your energy trying to get you to speak then you wouldn’t be able to help me in the future.”

_There_. Fear shot through Puffy’s spine like an electric shock, forcing a gasped breath from between her lips. She tried to stifle it, but she knew that Dream would have noticed.

_She was scared_. The type of fear that she couldn’t fight, the type that sat pinched in your heart in bolts of anxiety.

_Help Dream_. She had no idea what that meant. It could have meant anything, suggested anything, but she knew it wasn’t good. With a quiet, forced laugh, she shook her head at her captor, “Help you? With what? What could you possibly need me for?”

Reaching out, Dream ruffled her hair, ignoring the way she flinched under his touch. There was anger there, still sat below the surface, but his disguise was stronger, wilder.

“That’s not something you need to worry about. But for now, we’re done here. It’s time for you to return to your trailer whilst I make a call.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooh, by my calculations we're over halfway through now - I haven't written it all yet but I know exactly where we're going with the plot. I've also (finally) managed to solidify where all the characters were when they were first taken into the circus, so I'm going to try and make a spin off/one shot about that at some point soon too


End file.
